Life Ever After
by Shard Aerliss
Summary: Set in the years after the Meteor incident, the end of the game, filling in a bunch of gaps involving Vincent, with lashings of angst. Most of the chapters were inspired by pieces fanart by Wyna Hiros on DevArt.
1. Chapter 1 Falling

"Publishing" under my own "name", woot! Yes, I've put this out on fanfiction net, but I don't like their system, and as the inspiration for many episodes are featured on this site I thought I might as well put it out here. Oh and if you happen to frequent and recognise this story, I am not plagiarising, I am that author... I used different name... because I'm a dirty coward.

Anyway, the germ of this epic adventure began with a few pictures by the eminently wonderful Wyna Hiros, and most of the chapters will have been partly inspired by one or two of her pics (and the odd one from another artist that I can no longer find).

This story is set in the years after the Meteor incident, the end of the game. It's as close to canon as I can make it... FF7 is very subtle, it allows everyone to interpret it differently... making canon difficult!

Inspirations for this chapter: One Last Bullet

Construct C&C always welcome.

Oh, yeah... some parts may seem like they're leading to some yaoi slashing... they don't.

Rain beat down on his dark hair, running into his crimson eyes and blurring his vision. Growls echoed around him, mingling with the cracks of thunder and the booming crashes of Meteor's approach. How many enemies could be left? He had gone on ahead after the defeat of Sephiroth to help with the evacuation of Midgar. It had proven more troublesome than fighting the deranged son of the Calamity; monsters, attracted by the death and destruction, had crowded into the city.

Vincent was exhausted; fighting Sephiroth had taken much out of him and used most of his ammo. His magic was now gone, his materia , who had joined him in the evacuation, was no where to be seen. Neither were any of the Turks, including Reeve. He was alone in this battle, alone once again.

He had destroyed many of the beasts that had invaded the city, the survivors were wary of him. They huddled together, screeching and yapping as if goading each other into taking him on. Any other time he would have felt no fear at this. Any other time he would have destroyed each and everyone without hesitation. Not now; he had a single bullet, no magic, pain wracked his wearied body.

One last bullet, at least eleven demonic beasts.

"Demonic."

His left hand clenched, metal grinding against metal. He knew he could defeat them all with ease, these monsters forged in the sickening glow of the Mako reactors. All he had to do was lose control; let the beast take over and allow Chaos to rule his actions.

"Not yet," he murmured as thunder rolled through the charged skies. Chaos was his final recourse. While he still had other ways of evading defeat he would hold on to what little sanity he could and keep back the monster within his body.

A brown, gelatinous beast with a gaping mouth of deformed teeth and rotting flesh began to lurch towards him. A pack of small wolf-like creatures barked at each other as they ran around its hulking mass, attempting to leap at Vincent but always pulling back behind the giant brute. As the brown beast threw itself at him Vincent raised his gloved arm and the beasts jaws caught it, threatening to crush through the armour.

He pushed the Death Penalty into the mouth below his arm, breaking through the vicious teeth, and pulled the trigger. Putrid blood flew into his face. The beast relinquished its grip and breathed its last, crashing to the sodden ground. Vincent stumbled backwards from the corpse, still holding the gun up, hoping his enemies would continue to be wary of it. The metallic wolves skipped and yapped over the fallen body, digging their mouths into the still warm flesh, devouring the foul meat.

He knew the time had come, the final moment was upon him; he would have to call on the darkness within, on his old sins. His eyes fell closed, the Death Penalty still raised, and he waited. As soon as one of the beasts touched him he would transform, but not until then… he would put it off for as long as they would leave him alone.

Lightning erupted, blue flashing before his eyelids. A roar came with it and teeth clenched around his right, un-gloved arm. Pain sliced up the limb and into his chest, his fingers reflexively dropping the Death Penalty. He did not hear it touch the ground, he heard nothing of the barking, of the thunder, of the rumbling of feet around him. Vincent Valentine dropped to the ground, knowing only pain. Physical suffering burst across his body as teeth and claws pulled at his flesh, deafening and blinding all other senses.

He remembered pain like this; a long time ago, a distant half forgotten memory surfaced. A cold steel table beneath his naked body. Knives… small, infinitely sharp blades that sliced through his flesh like butter in a thousand places. Needles that penetrated his limbs, his heart, his mind. Strangely coloured liquids that warped and twisted him, breaking him into pieces only to put him back together again… wrong.

None of it was to prepare him for the agony of Chaos. The beast that had been driven into his body, forced to lay dormant until it was needed. Its voice whispered to him in his dreams, his nightmares. It had pushed itself into the forefront of his mind, taken control of his body and then his form. He lost all power and gave his body to it. He put up no fight, he surrendered, allowed it to kill and destroy with his own hands. He had felt the black emptiness, the swirling void of its morality.

And now he released it, let it use him to survive this battle; losing another part of himself to it. Bones cracked, skin was torn to shreds as the demonic spirit took over and remoulded his body to its own devilish guise. It pushed him away, sealed him up in his own mind; to see, to hear, to feel but to have no power over his actions. He felt the warm black blood of the beasts on his hands… his claws. He heard bones break and the yowls of pain from the silvery-blue canines. He saw the bodies littering the ground.

Enough… Chaos had reigned and now he needed to retake his body. He tried to force himself out, push the spirit back into the recesses of his mind and soul. It was frenzied, it wanted more blood.

No! He felt himself lift from the ground, wings beating in the pouring rain. He was turning towards the city, towards the survivors.

He screamed a silent protest, anger surging; it only fed the beast's blood lust further. He had to fight this, had to stop. He pushed again, gathered up every piece of strength he had left in his soul and forced his limbs to obey him. His wings faltered, he was falling, his body returning to its truer state. He hit the rubble-littered ground with a crack; weak and hurt.

"No more," he sighed softly, eyes falling closed. As he began to fall asleep, in the cold and wet, he felt more than heard the urging of Chaos. It was perfectly happy to be inside him, be a part of his polluted soul.


	2. Chapter 2 Loathing

Vincent's having morbid thoughts (when isn't he?) and really just wants to be left alone. Hah! Like Highwind will ever let that happen!

"Get off, yah bastard!"

"Get off? You're the one cheating!" Vincent grinned, brown eyes shining with glee as he wrestled Cid's face away from the vid screen, the pilot's gloved hand pushing down on his own head. How either of them expected to control the pixilated figures on the screen was a mystery.

"You started it all; pickin' the blasted character with guns. That ain't fair!" Cid's arm moved from the younger man's head to grab his tie; he was wearing his work suite. Cid yanked hard on the material and brought Vincent forward onto his face. The Turk only laughed, grabbing the controller now with both hands to finish off Cid's on screen avatar.

Bouncy but tinny victory music played as Cid tossed his control across the room. "Stupid game anyway."

Vincent laughed again; "It's your game!"

Cid looked at him, taking a crumpled cigarette from a just as crumpled packet held beneath the strap of his goggles. He smiled; "Yeah, well, as yer only friend I had to get somethin' you could beat me at."

Vincent opened his eyes, one in darkness as he lay on the ground. The other looked out onto a brightly lit grey and brown landscape of broken metal, concrete slabs and bodies. He had dreamt the gaming encounter with Cid. He had not known Cid when he had been a Turk; Cid would have been only a child then.

He groaned as he tried to raise himself off the cold, damp ground. His wounds were almost healed thanks to the experiments done on his immune system thirty years previous. His body was cold though, his muscles angry at the sudden movement after sleeping on rough ground. His clothes were sodden and heavy; his cloak, usually appearing almost alive and wispy, hung limp down his back with the weight of the water.

His clothes would dry. His body would heal. His guilt and the emptiness he always felt after summoning Chaos would remain intact.

What now? The sound of silence echoed amongst the rubble. Everyone had escaped, or at least no one was still within the city. It was over; Sephiroth and Shin-Ra were defeated. His vow of vengeance had been fulfilled; so what now?

His friends? What were they but begrudging battle buddies? Return to the mansion? He shuddered at the thought of returning. There was only one place left... he looked up at the bright, clear sky before setting off towards the western coast.

Vincent opened his eyes, hearing Lucrecia's voice die away with his dreams.

"And how are you supposed to be my bodyguard if you're up here sleeping..."

He lay on the floor of a place he had come to call Lucrecia's Cave. An image of her, frozen in time, stood before him, shimmering in the blue-white light of the crystalline walls.

He sat up, pulling the tattered red cloak around his cold limbs. How long had he been sleeping? He pushed his hand beneath the cloak, finding his phone inside the folds of his clothes. He flicked it open; four weeks. He had slept for four weeks and received several messages.

Vincent groaned as he opened the first. It was from Cid.

"Hey, Valentine! Where the Hell are yah? Kisaragi says yah went off on yer own. Now I know you ain't dead, no use hidin'! C'mon, boy, we won. Time to celebrate!"

Vincent closed the phone. He did not need to hear anymore. What had he to celebrate? Hojo was dead, he had taken his vengeance against the mad scientist; it was over. So what could he do now but return to his slumber; his existence was meaningless. Vincent lifted his Death Penalty from its holster, staring down at it in his un-gauntletted hand. It seemed the right thing to do now; finally let himself rest, truly rest.

"I finished it, Lucrecia. He paid."

A flicker of light danced across the crystals that held the image of the scientist he still loved. Vincent stared at them, at her. His imagination... He let the gun rest in his lap, watching the light bounce off its silvery surface. The shimmering of something in a shadowy dip caught his attention. He reached for it; a small packet of cigarettes and a lighter. Did Cid drop them? That damn man had no respect for anyone or anything.

Vincent opened the packet as he leaned against the wall. Breathing slowly he picked up the Death Penalty, smiling grimly as he thought of its name. He raised the packet in his gloved hand, lips resting on one little white stick. The barrel of the gun touched his forehead, jittering on his brow.

_Why am I shaking? This is what I want... this is what I need._

His fist crunched the packet of cigarettes within it, metal screeching with the force. His other hand slammed the gun against the ground.

Chaos.

Vincent growled, his own body fighting him, refusing to obey him.

_Not here, not near her. Not! Here!_

Vincent could hear breathing in his own ears, whisperings of silent pain. He fled from the cave; he could not transform into that vile beast in Lucrecia's Cave. He stumbled, pain ripping through his limbs as Chaos attempted to take control.

_No! It is my body!_

He felt hands on his sides, lifting him. Someone was here? He pushed them away, stumbling further and out of the cave. His name drifted through the pain.

"Valentine! What's wrong with ya?"

It was Cid Highwind. Had they come looking for him? Why, why could they not have left him alone! If Chaos took over now, if he lost control of it... His thoughts ended as Vincent felt Chaos' triumph. It tore out of his mind, infecting his body with its form. Helpless, Vincent was a prisoner, forced to sit by and allow Chaos to rule. The ground left his feet, wings beating at the air as Chaos turned around.

Cid called out to him, a crumpled, un-lit cigarette falling from his lips. Chaos rushed forwards, a silent dash on jagged wings. It threw Cid to the ground, claws ripping at the Captain's chest. Vincent was powerless to stop his body, he could only watch as the WEAPON tore at his friend, feel his own hands killing Cid Highwind. Trapped in the form of Chaos, Vincent prayed.

His prayers were answered.

Crunching pain hit his shoulder, tearing deep into his chest and bursting from his ribs. Chaos screamed, pinned to the ground by Cloud's Buster Sword. Fiery pain melted into cool darkness.


	3. Chapter 3 Fear

Eugh... Cid's accent is a pain of epic proportions! And does anyone know if the Sierra actually has an open deck? Neh...

* * *

><p>Bright electric light bored into his eyes, he tried to turn his head away but found something was holding it in place. Where was he? He remembered facing Hojo - there was a shot, burning acid pain jolted through his lower body, he hit the ground. Hojo's voice floated around him.<p>

"Can use... specimen."

Was he... Hojo's experiment? Fear furied Vincent's limbs to fight against their restraints. A sharp pain touched his arm, his mind clouded over, body calming.

"Now, now," Hojo's voice again. "We can't have you damaging yourself. I need you in good condition."

"You... shot me!"

"Yes, yes. Nothing permanent though," a jagged pain in his abdomen. "See, it has already almost healed, with a little help from me."

The light moved downwards, now shining directly on his body. As his vision cleared, Vincent saw the stone ceiling of the basement laboratory above him. Hojo chuckled mumbling to himself as though Vincent were not in the room.

"Perfect, he will make an excellent host."

Above him, a light blue sky with rolling, fluffy clouds melted into a warm sea scape; bright fish swam serenely amongst multicoloured coral. Vincent sat up slowly, pain dancing through his upper body. He found his arms had been tied behind his back with heavy, cold chains.

"Where... am I?" memories seeped into his thoughts; Lucrecia, Hojo, Chaos, pain... "Cid?" Vincent launched himself to his feet, gathering his strength he found the door and kicked it.

"Sir?" a wavering voice came through, a young man. "M- Mr. Valentine?"

"Where am I? No, Cloud, Cloud Strife, I need to talk to him."

"I, I'll go get Mr. Strife."

Another voice butted in; "But he told us not to move from here until we were relieved. We both have to be here."

Vincent shuddered; they were that afraid of him? To lock him in a room, chained up and with two guards. He leaned against the wall, arms aching in the heavy bonds. "Please, nothing will happen."

Uncertain noises and muffled voices came through the door, then the sound of fading footsteps. Vincent waited, seconds passing like hours. If he had killed Cid... he could not live with that. Chaos coiled and swirled inside him like a black serpent, reminding Vincent that he would be given no choice in whether he lived or died.

"Vincent?" Cloud's voice. The metal door slid open. Vincent moved away from it, conscious of his friend's fears. "You want to see me?"

Vincent looked past Cloud, they were all there; Tifa, Barret, Yuffie, Nanaki, Reeve - all but one. Vincent turned his head away from them.

"Cid?"

"He'll live."

Chaos growled; no death. It could not have the pleasure of feeling new anguish within its host.

"He's strong," Vincent said. "What now?"

"Now?"

Tifa pushed Cloud aside, walking into the room with Vincent. He moved away from her.

"Vincent, what happened?" she asked tenderly. "In all the battles we've fought, all the times we've seen... Chaos, you never turned on us."

"I could control it."

"And now?" her hand touched his shoulder.

"I'm losing control..." he whispered.

"Losing control?" Yuffie squealed, crashing past Cloud. "What do you mean; losing control!"

"Yuffie," Tifa turned to the young ninja. "Not now."

"Not now? What does he mean?"

"That he doesn't know if he can hold back Chaos anymore."

"That's why you tied him up? But it's ended now. He's okay now. Right, Vincent, you'll be fine."

Vincent shook his head; "You were right to chain me..."

"What the hell you yackin' about?" Vincent's heart leapt as he heard the Captain's voice. "Cloud, get outta mah way."

"Don't," Vincent called, his back to the door. "Don't come in here, all of you get out."

"Idiot," he heard Cid stomp into the room.

"Get out," he growled.

"Or yah'll what? Try to kill me 'gain? Pah, you didn't make much of a job of it last time round." Cid pushed Vincent around. The ex-Turk looked at his friend; his flight jacket rested on his shoulders, his right arm was held in a sling against his chest, his rib cage bandaged, with more gauze sitting just above the belt of his trousers. "What yah lookin' so shocked at? Least it was mah right arm - can still use mah lance." Cid grinned, a glowing cigarette between his lips. "Hey, Cloud, git these chains off."

"Cid," Cloud began.

"This is my airship, ah'm Captain! Git rid o' these chains."

Vincent echoed Cloud, but the Captain cut him short; "Don't yah start too. Yah ain't a prisoner, yer a guest. Quite botherin' me with yer whinin'."

Cloud surrendered, tossing Tifa the keys to unlock the chains. Carefully she stepped behind Vincent, the lock clicked, the chains tumbled to the floor with a heavy metallic clang.

"What now?" Vincent asked again, eyes on the floor.

"Right now?" Cid chimed. "We FINALLY celebrate!" He clapped Vincent on the back with his left hand. "And then," suddenly the gruff, crazed pilot became serious; his fingers squeezing Vincent's shoulder. "We try to find out what's happenin' to yah and fix it."

Fix it? Could a broken soul and a weakness of will be fixed? What choice did he have but to go along with Cid? Unable to look anyone in the eyes he followed the Captain out of the room and into a corridor.

He did not recognise the area; the ship seemed clean, new, not like the Highwind's well worn character.

"Cid, this is not the Highwind is it?"

Cid chuckled, giving a strong puff on his cigarette. "Ah've called her the Sierra. The Highwind - she's passed away. Sierra's an ancient ship. Found her while ah was searchin' for yah. She don't run on mako. Got mah crew to fix her up, get her runnin'... with a little 'elp from Reeve an' his benefactor."

"Benefactor?"

"Sommat to do with ShinRa. Reeve won't admit as much but we're pretty sure. Someone who could get into the ShinRa money, we just haven't worked out exactly who yet."

They walked for only seconds in silence before Cid had to break it; "So, you bin hidin' in that cave all these weeks?"

Vincent nodded, silence again. He glanced behind him, no one was following them.

"Cid," Vincent stopped, his fists clenched.

The Captain halted a few paces away, turning to face his friend. He watched as Vincent tried to summon up the courage to speak; he knew what was coming and did not like it.

"Don't you dare" Cid said. "If yer thinkin' o' apologisin'; don't. Tha's like sayin' it was your fault. An' ah don't believe that, ah don't wanna believe that. It was that thing inside yah that 'urt me, not you. So if yah apologise ah'm gonna take it that you did it. An' if tha's the truth... well ah'll 'ave to kick yer ass six ways from Sunday an' dump yah in the ocean. Got that?"

Cid did not understand; how could he? He did not know the feeling of his own hands tearing through the flesh of a friend. It did not matter that it was not his own actions; he had not been able to prevent it, to keep control.

"Cid."

The Captain covered the few paces between them before Vincent could begin another word. He slammed his fist into the wall, metal ringing.

"Did yah not hear a single word ah said? No, shut up. Ah don't want yer stinkin' apology. What ah want is fer you an' me an' the rest of 'em to celebrate not bein' dead. And give Aerith a proper send off."

"He wouldn't let us party till we found you."

Vincent turned to Yuffie; the young ninja had actually managed to creep up behind him in silence.

"Said it wasn't right, you know, if you weren't there."

"Wouldn't let us split up neither," Barret's baritone came around the corner before he did. He stood behind Yuffie, his mechanical arm resting on her shoulder. He attempted a poor impression of the Captain; "We're a team, an' on this ship that means yer crew - an' ah'm Captain. Yah don't do squat 'less I tells yah! That includes jumpin' ship!"

Yuffie laughed as Cid pulled a face at the horrible impression.

"So, whad'ya say?" the girl asked. "Party?"

"Cloud? Tifa?" Vincent threw back.

"They went to find Marlene with Reeve."

"Where is this... party being held?"

"Where d'ya think?" Cid knocked his shoulder with a playful fist. "The mess hall, where ah was takin' yah! So, yah comin'?"

Vincent nodded; whatever would make the Captain happy.

"Alright! Yeah!" Yuffie bounced on the spot, thumping the air. "Race yah!" she yelled, running past them in a blur. Barret followed in a slower jog.

"Catch you there!"

"Yuffie seems... healthier," Vincent commented. "What happened to her motion sickness?" He began walking again, beside Cid.

"We ain't movin," Cid chuckled. "Can't yah tell? No sound, no thrummin' o' the engines. Whole crew's in the mess hall."

"Oh..." Vincent had not thought about it before, but now he could sense the lack of sound, of vibration running through the ship's body.

The mess hall was a large, rectangular room in the heart of the Sierra. Long tables ran from end to end, chairs lined up along them. At the far end was the open kitchen, hot plates and bains-marie dividing it from the eating area.

As Cid and Vincent entered a cheer from the crew erupted and beer instantly began to flow. Music, fanfare, drums and fiddles, was piped through the Tannoy. Men and women began dancing anywhere there was floor space. The AVALANCHE members were pulled up, willing or

not, even Cloud seemed happy. Vincent stood by the door, eyes cast downwards, mumbled replies given to crew members who tried to thank him.

This was not his world. He could not share in its revelry. Chaos silently reminded him of its presence, whispers of death and sins floating in his mind. These people would all die - and he could not. Death, Chaos, would take them all to the Lifestream. Only Vincent would remain, nothing but cold memories to comfort him.

A frothy cup was thrust into his hand. "Cheer up," Cid's playful tone, as he leaned against the wall beside Vincent. "At least look a little livelier."

"Why?"

"What?" Cid's foot collided with Vincent's calf. "Yer alive, you got friends, Sephiroth's defeated, Hojo's dead..." At the mention of the ShinRa scientist's name Vincent turned away, a shudder flooding his whole body. Cid caught his words and backtracked. "And, well... yah got me!" He gave the dark-clad man a clap on the shoulder.

Vincent put his cup on a table corner and walked out the door, followed rapidly by a bewildered Cid.

"What the hell is wrong with you? So Lucrecia is dead. A lot of people died. Get over it. Celebrate the fact that you ain't gone, that we saved the whole damn world!"

"I cannot celebrate!" Vincent snarled at Cid, anger raising his pulse. "What have I left? I betrayed the woman I loved and now she's dead. The man responsible for her misery is dead. I have nothing left to keep me alive except... except the beast that dwells inside me. And Chaos won't let me join them, join her!"

Both men stood in silence, looking away from one another, both as angry as the other and unable to put the emotions into words. Cid began to walk towards Vincent, then past him. Vincent turned and followed him. They had so much to say but neither was willing to begin just yet.

"Where are you going?"

"To the bridge; wanna get her in the air. Things make more sense to me up there, in the sky. Once she's up I'll jus' leave her in auto-pilot, let her float, go up on deck."

"I'll meet you there then." Cid nodded, pointing down a different turning. Vincent took it as Cid continued walking.

Vincent reached the large, open deck before Cid had managed to start the Sierra's engines. They had not travelled far; he could see the mountains that held Lucrecia's Cave. He turned away from it, looking out towards the sea.

The huge propellers began to turn, at first inching their way around the axes, gradually picking up speed until they were a white blur. Vincent felt the floor rumble and the Sierra suddenly lifted. For a moment he felt heavier, felt pressure on his limbs until his body had picked up the same momentum as the ship.

Vincent looked over the railing, saw the rocky green land falling away from him until the ship slowed its ascent, floating gracefully in one spot. He had an idea - and he had to act on it before Chaos prevented it. He leapt up onto the polished wooden rail, gave one quick glance back as he heard Cid's voice... and tumbled off the Sierra.

Cid's panicked, obscenity ridden cry reached him as he plumetted towards the ground.

Chaos roared, he felt its deep desire to live rumble through his body, the WEAPON's strong will breaking through his flesh. As he tumbled through the air, Vincent curled up, determined to prevent Chaos from emerging, from saving his life with its powerful wings.

"Please," he whispered, praying to an unknown deity, or was he pleading with Chaos? "Let me die... let me have my rest."

The WEAPON was too strong, its desire to live greater than Vincent's pitiable desire for death. The man screamed as the beast's wings burst from his back - pain, anger, fear and self pity expressed in one strangled cry. He felt his wings rip through the air only a moment before his body impacted the ground.


	4. Chapter 4 Friendship

Darkness, fire crackling nearby, its heat warming his face. A blanket had been draped over his body and a pillow placed beneath his head. A howl echoed in the distance, birds twittered as they settled in to roost - all the sounds of the dying sunset.

Someone took a deep breath nearby, dropped something small on the ground then scraped at the dirt with a boot - Cid Highwind and his seemingly unending supply of cigarettes.

So he had failed then; Chaos had beaten him once more. Would he ever be allowed to rest?

Vincent opened his eyes. A large bonfire smoldered a few feet away, he could see the Sierra silhouetted by the failing sun, not far beyond the fire. Glancing up, he saw Cid's boots. The Captain was sitting on a log, staring absently at the fire, another white stick glowing between his lips. Was he watching over the prostrate Vincent?

"Where are the others?" Vincent asked, his dry voice cracking at first.

Cid looked at him, a little surprised at first; "Heh, was startin' to think yah'd never wake up." He nodded toward the airship; "They're inside, sleepin' ah guess. Reeve's been contactin' some o' ShinRa's people. Said he'd try to find Hojo's files... yah know."

Vincent knew; they hoped to find a "cure." He believed in none.

He saw Cid bend down, lifting something from behind his feet. He lobbed it in Vincent's direction. A heavy, chunky lump of metal clanged in front of Vincent's face - it was his Death Penalty.

"Lose it did yah?"

"Something like that."

"What were yah doin' with it in that cave?"

Vincent closed his eyes, not ready for another berating from the Captain. "Why ask when you have already assumed?"

"So, ah take it mah assumption was right?"

Silence.

"Why?" Cid sighed. "Why yah tryin' to end it?"

"I'm losing to Chaos. Ever since the Northern Crater - it has been getting stronger." Vincent sat up slowly, his body fully healed from the fall. He looked at Cid; the Captain was still wearing his jacket over his shoulders; torso and right arm bandaged. "I don't want to hurt anyone else. I just... Hojo is dead, I've avenged Lucrecia. I should have died long ago."

"Shut yer yappin!" Cid butted in. "Ah don't lose friends easy, Valentine, an' ah consider you a friend. Understand?"

Vincent sighed, picking up his gun. Again the question came; "What now?"

"Ah told yah that already! Find a way to fix this."

"And if we cannot?"

"We keep lookin'."

"And where do we look?"

Cid took another deep drag of his cigarette before stubbing it out with his boot.

"First call; Reeve's people are gonna see what they can find in any remainin' ShinRa records. And..." he faltered, looking at Vincent for the first time since he had woken up. "We're gonna go to Nibelheim."

"You think you will find something in the Mansion?"

"Worth a try."

Everyone's woes always seemed to come back to ShinRa - and more often than not to Hojo. Vincent was not the only member of the reformed AVALANCHE to have been tormented by him - Cloud, Nanaki and Aerith had all been directly affected by him. And thanks to Hojo, Sephiroth had been born - a blight on the life of every living creature on the Planet.

"When?"

"Mornin'," Cid stood up, stretching his arms towards the dying fire. "Comin' in?"

Vincent merely shook his head. Cid returned his backside to the log.

"Yah think ah'm leavin' yah alone again yah got another thing comin'!"

Despite himself, Vincent smiled; "Thank you."

They sat quietly, watching the embers dance and flash. Vincent on the ground, Cid on the log.

"Hey," Cid grinned at his friend. "Remember our first watch together? We'd known each other 'bout six hours."

"Yes, you were obnoxious."

Heavy droplets splashed at their feet, a crack of thunder rolled around the valley. Vincent stared up at the rivulets of rainwater rushing down the grey stone that towered above them as Captain Highwind grumbled beside him.

Barely twenty four hours had passed since Vincent had been woken from his long slumber. It had been a solitude he was told had lasted, almost uninterrupted, for twenty seven years.

"Always get the crap shifts, all the f***ing time."

Vincent said nothing. The man on watch with him was loud, brash and had a terrible way with words. The sooner this night was over, the better.

"Is it true," Cid's voice cut through the gloom. "You're a vampire?"

Why did Cloud Strife, a stoic and clearly powerful young man, keep this buffoon on his team?

"Because," the Captain spoke again. "You don't have those pointy teeth."

Vincent sighed: "Highwind?"

"Yes, Vampy?"

"Shut up."

He heard the Captain chuckle behind him and looked back; Highwind was lighting another one of his infernal cigarettes. The silence continued, pock-marked by the thunder.

Movement caught Vincent's eye. A small group of creatures was sniffing among the rocks only a few hundred yards from the camp. Vincent thumbed the trigger of his gun. It had been a long time since he had fired a weapon; was he still worthy of the title of sharpshooter? There was one way to find out.

He slipped from beneath the sparse protection of the overhanging rocks and picked his way towards the beasts.

"Highwind!"

"Huh?"

"Monsters!" he pointed at the pinkish, six-legged, armoured monstrosities that were moving toward the camp.

"Oh, shit!" the Captain hefted his lance and shot toward Vincent on silent feet.

"I make six."

"Yeah, easy targets till they notice us. Li'l bastards'll curl up and start spinnin'. Difficult to get through their armour once that happens. They're called Spirals"

"Perhaps we should wait, see if they veer away from the camp."

"Once they catch wind of it they'll be straight for it," he clapped Vincent on the shoulder. "Come on, lets see how good yah are with that pea-shooter. If we both take one out before they go on the defensive it only leaves us with four to deal with."

Vincent nodded and raised his gun. He would fire when the Captain hit his target. For his part, Cid took a running leap into the air. Lightning bounced off the mountains, peels of thunder erupting simultaneously. Vincent kept his eyes on the beast he was about to kill through the bright blue flashes.

A squeal of agony, cut hideously short, burst from one of the monsters and Vincent fired. His target fell to the ground; dead. The four remaining Spirals howled. Was it the loss of a pack-mate, or the pure animal rage of the chance to kill?

Vincent had experienced both, he knew they were a part of animal and human nature alike.

The Spirals curled into their defensive balls, spinning with devilish speed. Cid flew into the dark air, leaving Vincent as their only target. What was the Captain thinking?

One Spiral hurled itself at Vincent, a flurry of teeth and claws. He fired but the bullet bounced off the thick, horny armour. Cid's lance suddenly landed in its path, toppling the spinning mass over. It squawked as it sprawled across the sodden ground.

Vincent fired at its underbelly, blasting a jagged hole in the soft flesh there. Heavily damaged, it limped back to its pack before it could be hit again. Cid took up his post at Vincent's side.

"Yah missed!"

"I hit it."

"Yah missed its vitals!"

Vincent did not return a jibe. He set his eyes once again on the pack; another Spiral was heading their way. Cid brought down his lance but there was too much warning and the beast swerved.

Vincent fired, it was too late; the creature ploughed into him, knocking him back. Its claws dug deep furrows across his chest. Dazed, his head thumping from the rocky collision, he heard Cid cry out. The Captain tumbled beside him, blood running from his mouth to mix with the rain.

"Bastards," Cid winced as he stood, a hand flying to his side; broken ribs. Vincent threw him a Potion. The Captain knocked it back; "Got many more o' those?" Vincent shook his head. They had not been well stocked. "Damnit!"

Both on their feet again, they watched the Spirals in their bizarre dervish, rain and mud spattering the boulders around them. The injured beast was at the back of the group. Unable to spin, it spat and snarled, tail whipping the rain soaked ground.

Vincent fired at it. Weak and slow, it was unable to dodge or deflect the bullet. It fell dead. Cid gave Vincent a thumbs up and leapt at another. They had formed a square, the three still living and one dead, the two at the front stood closer together than the two at the back. Cid had launched himself at one in the front row. His lance hit, tearing lose chunks of armour, but the Spiral kept on turning.

For their part, the other two lunged at Vincent, the first running straight towards him. Distracted, he missed the other, wheeling around behind him. Its jagged teeth sank into his right shoulder as its four front legs clawed at his back and sides.

Animal rage pulled a scream from deep inside him, a sound he had not heard since he had woken up on Hojo's table. He threw his gauntletted arm over his shoulder and grabbed the beast's head. Metal claws sank deep into its bony skull. It howled, releasing its grip. Vincent pulled it over his shoulder, hurling it into its partner.

Crack of thunder, Cid's voice, snarling beasts, cold rain running down his face, heart racing. The Galian Beast, the name he had heard Hojo use for it, was taking over his body and he could do nothing to prevent it. He screamed, his voice filtered through the Galian Beast's rage. His mind clouded with its blood lust, he felt powerful legs propelling him forward, claws tearing through bony armour, washed in hot blood.

Seconds and it was over; the Spirals lay dead at his feet. Steam drifted from his hot limbs as the rains began to diminish. Its lust for death satisfied, the Galian Beast returned control to Vincent, lying dormant again inside his body and mind.

The ex-Turk collapsed in the soft earth. It was the first time he had killed something with those monstrous hands.

"No," he whispered, horrified and disgusted by the creature that he had become. "Why...?"

"Vincent?" a nervous voice asked.

The Captain? No! He saw it!

"Get away from me!"

"Hey," Cid said, the waver disappearing from his voice. "We won. Yah kicked their asses!"

Won?

"That was awesome! Where the hell did yah learn to do that?"

Cid did not know the truth, he did not know of the vile corruption of Vincent's body.

"It was... nothing... just get away!"

Cid's lance touched the mud in front of Vincent's face, his feet behind it.

"Yah don't seem too pleased about this."

Vincent pushed himself off the ground, facing the Captain.

"About what? That I am infected with monstrous beings? That I have not been the master of my own mind and body for over thirty years? That I was tortured and experimented on by a man destined to destroy the woman I loved?"

Cid did not take his eyes from Vincent's as he shouted, as the voice of Chaos loomed in his throat - Cid was not afraid of him. Through ignorance or damned foolhardiness, the Captain stood his ground as Vincent gave voice to emotions he had dwelled on in his dreams for decades.

"Then yah gonna use the crap Hojo did to yah against him, ain't yah?"

Cid's blunt, simple response caught Vincent off guard. He had not thought of it that way. Yet he shook his head; "I'm a monster," he whispered, staring at his blood soaked hand, the clawed gauntlet smothered in ichor.

"Yer a man," Cid said. "Yah just... got a few extra things the rest of us ain't."

This arrogant, selfish, obnoxious man was comforting him? Vincent looked up at the Captain to see him smiling in the pale dawn light.

"Come on," Cid grabbed his arm. "Sun's comin' up. We'll go warm up on the campfire."

Vincent followed him in silence, a simple word bringing light to his dark life; friend.

Rosy fingered dawn crawled her way across the rocky ground. The fire had died away to glowing ashes while the two men had reminisced, talking of past times as if they had happened many years before - when in reality mere months had passed.

"We should get inside," Cid said, stifling a yawn. "Yah can sleep on the journey."

"And you?" Vincent rose gracefully, cloak drifting in the cool breeze.

"Ah can trust the ship to mah crew once ah give out the orders."

Cid found Vincent spare quarters, ordering the mess to send up food before leaving for the bridge. Vincent lay down on the small bunk, fully clothed. His body ached, hungered for sleep - but he could not rest knowing he was returning, once again, to the ShinRa Mansion.

A hollow knock at the door startled Vincent; had he been dozing? At the door stood a girl, she was short and plump in the face, pink cheeks crinkled as she smiled.

"I bought you something to eat, Mr. Valentine, just as the Captain ordered." She pushed a silver tray towards Vincent. There were plates of food protected by silver covers, a jug of coffee and a mug with cream, a mound of chocolate cake sat under a muslin cloth.

The girl pouted as she looked up at Vincent, neck craning at his height; "Oh, but you look tired. Maybe I should have brought cocoa instead of coffee."

"Coffee is fine," he did not feel like sleeping.

"But it'll keep you awake, and you need to get some rest, the Captain said." She pushed the tray at him again. "So, I better be off and leave you alone. Do you want cocoa? I can get cocoa."

"No, but thank you." Vincent surrendered, taking the tray.

"No problem!" she grinned and almost skipped away.

Vincent pushed the door to with his foot and set the tray down on the bedside table. Sitting on the bed he lifted the covers off the plates and placed them on the floor. Little wisps of steam rose from the hot dishes; a creamy, chunky soup and a warm roll, a platter of meat, vegetables and yams. Homely, comforting food - cooked by mothers across the Planet.

Vincent smiled a little, wondering if Cid had ordered the exact menu - Cid, a mother figure...

Bending down, Vincent unbuckled his boots and kicked them into a corner, then did the same with his cloak.

It had been a long time since he had eaten a proper meal. After meeting AVALANCHE he had always been on the move, never a chance to stop, catching a quick snack whenever the chance arose. Even when they had taken the Highwind there had been little chance to eat.

And before that? Vincent did not want to think about it. But he could never escape it - every day he was reminded of his betrayal, and his torment. It was his punishment. He looked down at the gauntlet on his left arm. He undid the buckles and let it slip to the ground, reminded of its weight now that he could not feel it. A thick black glove veiled his arm to the elbow; he pulled at the fingers, sliding it off. Opening and closing his hand he stared at the scars that made a patchwork of his flesh; he would never forget.

He returned the black glove to his hand before taking up the bowl of soup, trying to push his painful past away with food he did not need to consume.

Vincent was woken by a knock at the door again; he had drifted into a deep sleep. He found himself leaning against the wall, the empty plates and bowls scattered about the bed. He had not intended to fall asleep, it had snuck up on him and he had not resisted.

Another knock and a call from Cid; "Hey, Valentine, get up!"

"Have patience, Captain," Vincent returned, navigating past the clutter. He opened the door to Cid, eyes still sleepy. He looked down at the younger man, waiting to be told they had arrived and he was about to re-enter his nightmares.

"Heh," Cid grinned. "Don't think ah ever saw yah without yer creepy apparel. So, yah got a right arm after all! Have to tell Barret he lost the bet."

Vincent shut the door.

"Ah, come on Valentine! Lighten up, it was a joke."

"Have we arrived at Nibelheim?" Vincent called through the walls as he re-dressed.

"Yeah," Cid replied. "We're waitin' for yah."

Vincent opened the door, now fully clothed; "Who?"

"Cloud, Yuffie, Reeve and Tifa," Cid began to walk away, leading Vincent to the hold where they could depart the ship. "Barret's stayin' back with Marlene, 'n' Red says he won't be much use with the books; no thumbs." As if to illustrate his point, Cid wiggled a thumb in the air.

"Cloud wishes to return? And Tifa..."

"Yeah," Cid snorted. "You all got history there ain't yah? Ah guess they wanna face it with yah." He clapped the taller man on the back.

Cid had landed the Sierra just outside Nibelheim. Yuffie, Reeve, Cloud and Tifa were waiting at the entrance to the town as Vincent and the Captain disembarked.

"You don't have to come," Reeve was talking to Cloud and Tifa.

"No," Cloud shook his head. "The more people are looking the more chance we have of finding something."

"We're a team," Tifa smiled at Vincent. "We work together."

Vincent nodded as he walked by them, into the town. It was just after sun-up - the town was silent, dead. No one stopped them as they entered the grounds of the Mansion. Reeve spoke as he pushed open the door.

"Aside from your entrance a few weeks ago, no one has disturbed this place in years."

A small flurry of dust greeted the intruders, swirling in the growing sunlight. Tifa ventured in first, followed by a reluctant Yuffie and Reeve.

"You going to be okay?" Cloud asked Vincent.

The older man looked through the open doorway. When he had been woken by Cloud and his friends, Vincent had left the building in a daze, astounded by the decay and state of disrepair the mansion had fallen into.

"One way to find out," Vincent drawled as he crossed the threshold.

"Still creepy," Yuffie whistled, hopping up the stairs after Reeve and Tifa. "I think all the monsters have left though."

It did seem that way; they came across no enemies as they made their way down the twisting staircase to the basement. Vincent stopped as he passed the door to the crypt, Reeve and Cid beside him. Why could he not just slip back inside there and return to his sleep?

He felt Cid's hand on his shoulder. "It was so easy," he said, still looking at the door. "I just... dreamt for nearly thirty years. I could pretend none of the hideous mess I had created had happened."

"Come on, boy," Cid pushed his shoulder, forcing Vincent's feet to move. "We came here for a reason, remember?"

Vincent's eyes moved to the ground as he continued walking into the library.

"Where do we start?" he heard Tifa's voice as he walked past them, drawn to another room; one they had not entered yet at the far end of the library. The door would not open, Vincent drew the Death Penalty and blew out the lock. Wood chips sprayed from the frame, the door flew open into the room with the force of the shot.

Inside stood a blood stained and deeply scarred table in a small stone room, surrounded by old computer terminals, a large lamp above the table, restraints for wrists and ankles. Vincent's eyes fixed on the table, bile rising in his throat.

There were hushed murmurs around him, but he could not take his eyes off the table. It had been the centre of his miserable existence for so long. Had it been months? Months of agony and fear; unable to move, unable to flee. The only company had been Hojo and his knives, his tubes and phials.

Someone pushed passed him, into the room; Reeve. He was looking at the computers, touching the buttons. The lamp sparked, shining an angry hot beam onto the bloodied table. Vincent jumped at the sight of the bright light.

"S-sorry," Reeve offered. "This looks like an old recording terminal. Hojo may have kept records. We might still be able to access them..."

Vincent tried to speak, to stop him from starting the play back, but could form no words.

"Ah," Reeve almost sounded pleased as he found the right switches.

Vincent began to shake; over the meaningless words of Hojo he heard his own screams and strangled pleas. Without thought he raised his gun at Reeve; "Make it stop."

Reeve stuttered, turning to the panel again, fumbling with the keys.

"Make it stop!"

Cid moved through his line of sight, pulling the power cord. Vincent's screams ended.

He lowered the gun, arm shaking. He turned around, making a dash for the stairs. "I have to... get out of here." He heard their yells behind him, Yuffie being called back. He did not stop, taking the twisting staircase in one leap. He ran and ran until he found himself in the bright light of the morning.

"Don't... no, don't!" Chaos clawed at his mind, scratching its way out of his soul. He dropped his gun, falling to his knees. "Get back!"

"Vincent?" Yuffie stood behind him. "Vincent, you can fight it!" He felt her arms around him, hugging him tighter than he thought her capable. "Don't let it win, Vincent. I know you can fight it!"

Chaos knew better. Vincent felt it roar, felt it rip through his body. There was no pain though, no vision of his claws tearing Yuffie apart. Only darkness.


	5. Chapter 5 Betrayal

This isn't a slash fic. It looks like it might turn that way at times, but honestly, I just write them as good friends.

* * *

><p>Vincent woke in what he guessed was the infirmary on the Sierra. A large room with beds lined against the walls, tubes and vials filled with healing liquids. Someone sat beside him, snoring softly; Cid. Vincent turned his head to look at him. A dead cigarette lay on his lips, arms crossed over his chest, still bandaged but no longer in a sling.<p>

Yuffie, where was Yuffie? Trying to get up, Vincent found he was chained to the bed. His nightmare returned, Hojo loomed over him, scalpel in hand, lips forming a manic grin. Panic flew through his body. Fighting the chains he cried out; "Let me go! Let me go!" He could not be trapped again, unable to escape the pain.

"Hey, hey!" Cid's hand pressed on his chest. "Calm down."

"Let me go!"

"Stop yer fittin' first."

"Highwind!" Vincent lay back, his chest rising and falling with short, rapid gasps. "You don't... understand. I can't... tie me up on the ground... don't chain me to this... this table!"

Calmly, the Captain took a syringe of dark liquid up. Vincent's panic doubled; "Wh-what are you doing? Highwind! Cid!" He struggled, straining still against the chains.

"Just somethin' to calm yah down. Ah can't abide anymore o' yer screamin'."

Cid administered the drug with some difficulty as Vincent fought within his confines. There was a brief pain in Vincent's arm, then a sharp coldness which quickly faded. As the drug travelled through his blood stream it had the same affect on the rest of his body.

How could they do this to him, after what they all saw? Did they not understand what he had gone through? "Please," he mumbled, the drug chilling his mind before allowing it an unnatural state of calm. "Let me go..."

"And what will yah do if ah unchain yah?" Cid shook his head. "Wasn't mah decision anyway. Took a vote; ah lost."

"They think this... will contain Chaos? It won't. Please..."

"Stop it!" Cid slammed his fist on the little white table beside the bed. "Stop yah beggin'! Who d'ya think we are? We're yah friends."

"I know," Vincent closed his eyes, the drug clouded his mind, set his fears aside. "Yuffie?"

"She's fine. A little shaken up is all."

"What... what did I do?"

"Nothin'. She says yah fought her for a few seconds then passed out. No Chaos."

"I could have killed her. I should never have gone in there."

"Maybe not. But now we got the info we need."

"You listened to the recordings?" Vincent looked at his friend who seemed to be avoiding his gaze. Did they hear it all? Had Cid heard him begging for his freedom, for his death? Is that what the Captain had meant by not being able to 'abide anymore of his screams'?

"Yeah, some of 'em," Cid re-lit his cigarette. "Reeve's gatherin' it all together for us, along with anythin' the WRO could find in the fallen Shin-Ra Tower."

What would his conclusion be? Was there a way for them to stop Chaos claiming Vincent's body? His mind danced with the possibilities; the endless options that could be put forward.

"What yah thinkin' about?" Cid asked quietly, smoke swirling about his head.

"Nothing..." Vincent closed his eyes again, resting as best he could in the restraints... in the fearful state of mind he was in. It seemed to take hours before the door to the infirmary opened, followed by the sounds of footsteps as several people entered the room. Had he slept and woken again?

"Vincent?" he heard Cloud's voice.

"What?"

"We, er," Reeve coughed, Vincent heard the shuffle of papers.

"Just tell me," Vincent kept still, kept his eyes closed. He could smell fresh cigarette smoke. Cid was still there; had he left at all?

"It seems that," Reeve coughed again before his puppet, Cait Sith took over; "Hojo never finished his work. You died on the table, Vincent."

Never finished? Vincent sat up as much as the chains would allow and faced his friends; the people who had confined him. They were all there, Cid still sitting beside him, Yuffie shuffling at the back. They seemed tired, haggard. How long had they been working through Hojo's files? Vincent was lost in time, the events of the last few days strung together by bouts of pain, madness and darkness like a broken nightmare.

Reeve continued; "We know what Hojo planned to do. We can finish his work."

Vincent shot his gaze at Reeve. The head of the WRO was staring intently at his papers.

"What?"

"Your system..." Reeve's words came out in a rapid string. "Your genetic structure is still fractured. Hojo was never given the chance to stabilise it. This is what is allowing Chaos to slowly take control; it can manipulate your mind and body with greater ease than it should be able because of the instabilities and inconsistencies."

"And what?" Vincent asked, his voice low. "Do you plan to correct this?"

Reeve could not answer him. Vincent looked at everyone in the room, none could hold his gaze.

"Someone answer me!" he growled.

"Yes," Cloud finally replied.

"No. I won't agree to it."

"It has already been decided."

What? They were going to continue Hojo's work on his body, whether he wished it or not? How could they even think of it, using his body without his consent?

"Let me go!"

"If we do that you'll run again. It's decided." Cloud began to leave.

"No! No it is not!" Vincent struggled in the chains again, the metal cutting into his wrist. "You can't do this to me!"

Cid's hand pressed against his shoulder; "Now wait a minute! When was this decided?"

Reeve spoke up, finally; "Just now. Vincent, we've been over and over all the information we have. This is all we can find."

"That ain't true," Cid said. "What about the drug yah gave me; that black stuff. Yah said that'd stop 'im from transformin'."

The black stuff? Vincent had thought it only a mild anaesthetic; an opiate to calm his frayed nerves.

"It's a stop-gap; a short term measure," Reeve addressed Vincent. "Hojo created a chemical that would suppress your ability to transform. However, it must be administered within a solution of heavy metals that have a bio-accumalitive affect; your body is unable to expel them. Over time they build up. There is much in your system already. Eventually, continued use would kill you."

"How soon?"

Reeve consulted his papers; "One month."

"Then continue searching for that one month."

"Vincent," Tifa approached the bed. "We've been searching for days. Not just us but all the people that Reeve could round up from the WRO. This is all we could find; not even a glimmer of anything else."

Vincent lay back on the bed, his eyes closed. His heart raced, pounding against lungs that fought for air. He knew that they would not do this unless it weas the last resort. How could he accept it though? How could he let himself be used again?

"You'll be under sedation," Reeve's voice cut in again. "There will be no pain."

"Only nightmares," Vincent whispered. He had to bow down to it; there was no other choice but death. Death? If the drug confined his other forms, confined Chaos, maybe he could finally let go. They would never release him though. Even if they did, Cid would not let Vincent out of his sight. "Leave me. All of you, just get out."

"But."

"Get out!"

"We'll be at the WRO head quarters in two hours."

He heard shuffling feet, the door opening, a match struck. The door closed again, but someone was still in the room; "Cid."

"No chance, boy. Ah'm stayin' right here."

"Leave me!"

"Tell me," Cid took a drag on his cigarette, drawing out his words. "What was she like? The woman that managed to get some emotion, other than anger, out of you."

"Lucrecia?" Vincent closed his eyes. Surrendering to the pain in his wrist, he relaxed into the pillow again. "Why?"

"Somethin' to talk about."

"Thank you," Cid was trying to take his mind off things; he would obey. "She was light. Always smiling, joking. She took away the pain of my father's death. I was happy when she was nearby.

"But," he sighed softly, turning his head to look at the Captain. "It all crumbled away. We both made mistakes... and Hojo took advantage of that. And now... now I'm paying for it.

"Sorry, I can't... I can't talk about her. Talk to me. Why did you call your ship Sierra?"

Cid grinned; "Ah asked Shera to marry me. You remember her?"

"I remember you were awful to her."

"Yeah, well," Vincent thought he saw a slight blush under the Captain's stubble. "Ah realised mah mistake. She's smart, she's beautiful, she knows mah ship better than ah do. What more do ah need?"

"She's obedient to," Vincent drawled. He could almost forget he was chained up, awaiting the violation of his body.

"Not so much anymore, not since I proposed to her."

"And apologised?"

"And apologised," Cid admitted, putting his cigarette out on the bedside table. Vincent watched his hand move to it, amazed at the small pile of ash and butts.

"How long have you been here?"

Cid shrugged: "Days?"

"Thank you," Vincent whispered again. He stared up at the grey ceiling.

"Not much else to do."

Cid tried time and again to get Vincent to talk. It did not matter what it was about, he just wanted to distract his friend from his suffering. As the moment drew nearer Vincent crawled in on himself even more, giving one word answers, or just grunts. Fear slowly trickled into his mind, blotting out all thoughts.

By the time Cid felt the change in inertia signalling a landing Vincent had not spoken for nearly fifteen minutes; the Captain was running out of things to say.

"I can't do this!" the ex-Turk suddenly blurted. His eyes screwed shut, arms straining against the bonds once again. "Please, Cid, don't let them do it." He felt Cid's hand clasp his shoulder, heard him stutter, struggling for words. Vincent knew the Captain could do nothing; he was one man, and this was the only course of action left open. Yet how could Vincent just let it happen? If all he could do was beg then he would do it. "Cid, please. Please, let me go. Please, Cid."

"Ah can't." Cid's words were barely audible. "Stop beggin', there ain't nothin' ah can do now. Don't plead with me anymore. It ain't like yah."

The door slid open. How were they going to do this? Could he make a dash for it when they released him?

"Mr. Valentine?" he did not recognise the voice. "Mr. Valentine?"

"Jus' talk to 'im. He's not gonna answer yah."

"We are going to anaesthetise you here. We understand this is going to be difficult..."

"Difficult?" Vincent tried to sit up. "You're about to... I don't want this! You can't do this to me!"

There were five people in the room; three women and two men. They were all dressed in medical whites and greens, gloved hands. Two of the women were standing over a trolley working with the contents, of which he could see nothing. The man who had spoken stood closest to him, carrying a clipboard. He did not flinch at Vincent's sudden movements, but his words seemed to cut the man.

"I was informed that... this is to save your life."

"I don't care!" Vincent was terrified; what would he be when he woke up? "You can't just play with my body! Let me go!"

The man shook his head; "Mr. Strife informed me you might be this way. I'm afraid I have to continue. Please, do not struggle." He turned briefly, taking a syringe from one of the nurses and passing the clipboard to another.

Vincent thrashed in the chains, ignoring the pain in his wrist, the screech of metal from the gauntlet. "Cid, stop him. Please."

"Ah can't. Ah'm sorry, Vincent."

He watched the Captain move away, head hung, as the third woman approached him. She carried a mask attached to a string of canisters and dials.

"Cid! Cid!" Everyone had abandoned him. They were supposed to be his friends! No, they were not his friends; they were simply people he had fought alongside to save the Planet. Now they were saving the Planet again, but this time he was the enemy.

He felt the needle in his arm, within seconds he felt heavy, tired; his limbs would not obey. In a dark haze he watched the woman draw nearer, lifting the mask and placing it over his face.

"Please," he mumbled. "Let me... go. Please... don't... don't..."


	6. Chapter 6 Broken

Vincent opened his eyes, blinking in the patch of bright sunlight coming through the half closed, cream curtains. He was in a small room, white walls, white ceiling, white sheets on his bed.

"Where..?" The WRO head quarters. He gasped, sitting up rapidly to find himself again bound to a bed. This time, however, his body was partly exposed; his torso was bandaged, his arms also. There was thick padding around his wrists, beneath heavy chains. "No, not again," he coughed, his throat dry. "No! Let me go!"

"Valentine?" Cid leapt out of a comfy chair near the foot of the bed. "Hey, calm down. It's over now."

"Then let me..." his words fell away as he felt his body shift, the odd sensation of his organs realigning themselves, his limbs changing shape, losing shape. His body was morphing, becoming fluid, amorphous, the bandages falling through his liquid form. In panic he screamed, but there came no sound. In an instant he could see all around him; above, behind, below, to the left and right, and straight ahead. His body twisted and rolled around him, his mind in the centre.

His panic fell away as he realised he was in control; no demon to fight back, no beast raging to kill. He moved, his whole form sliding through the air. He saw the wall drawing closer, now he was on the ground, Cid falling away. The Captain looked frightened, yet fascinated.

Could he change back? Yes! He felt himself changing, as though simply thinking it had made it occur. His body reformed, folding back into limbs, a torso, a head. He was on his knees, arms wrapped around his body as he gasped short, sharp breaths. His eyes danced across the ground in front of him, unseeing, as he tried to understand what had happened.

He wanted to scream, to cry, to beat the ground with his fists, crawl into a corner and sleep without the nightmares of his past colliding with his present.

"What did they do?" he muttered, fingers clawing at his own flesh. "What did they do to me!"

He held back a scream, it scratched at his throat, thumped at his eyes, forcing tears to tumble onto his knees. The scream rose into his mouth, holding back his breath till the pain pushed it out of his body in a violent burst of sound. He screamed and howled till he had to draw in a deep, juddering breath. A blanket fell over his shoulders. His hands fled to it, pulling it tight around his violated body.

"What did they do to me?" he mumbled again, leaning forward till his head touched his knees.

"Vincent?" Cid's quiet, questioning tone came to him. The Captain was in front of him, crouching. His trembling hands touched Vincent's shoulders lightly then gripped them, raising him up. Vincent opened his eyes and looked at the man's craggy face; he had never seen him so afraid.

Cid lifted the ex-Turk's upper body slowly, terrified of another horrific outburst. The bandages had fallen from him in the chaos. Cid avoided Vincent's scars, focusing instead on his face.

The Captain had been woken by the other man's screams then confronted with the vision of his friend's body literally unravelling itself as if he were made of a living ribbon. The writhing mass had moved off the bed, rolling on the floor. It settled for a moment, dancing around itself before returning to the form of a human man, shaking, kneeling on the ground.

Cid had been unable to move as he witnessed this cursed miracle of science, followed by Vincent's horrifying outburst, but his friend needed him to do something, anything. He had pulled the blanket off the bed and draped it over the quivering figure.

Now he looked at Vincent, sure he was hallucinating; he no longer saw the man he knew - quiet, aloof, a man who was worldly and wise. He saw instead a frightened boy, tortured and terrorised beyond what he could bare. Tears streaked the ex-Turk's face, his long dark hair clinging to his damp cheeks. Crimson eyes pleaded with Cid - make it stop, make it end, make it all go away.

Broken, thought Cid. They had destroyed what was left of Vincent's mind and soul. His only friends had turned on him out of fear.

"I'm sorry," the Captain said, pulling Vincent into a fraternal embrace.

Vincent let the sobs burst from his body again as Cid held him; a father comforting a distraught child. The Captain did nothing but hold him, waiting patiently as Vincent pulled himself back together.

A clamouring at the door broke through his muffled, diminishing cries. He pushed Cid away; someone should answer them. Cid said nothing as he walked past him to the door. Vincent listened, hunched on the floor, as the Captain spoke to a woman outside.

"What happened?" the voice asked, calm and polite.

"He's fine," was Cid's gruff reply.

"Captain," a little annoyed. "The sensors are showing Mr. Valentine as dead. As I can hear him, and he sounds quite distraught, I know this is not true. I can only conclude that something is wrong with the scanning machinery on the bed."

"He's fine," Cid repeated.

"Captain," angry now. "I have nothing but Mr. Valentine's interests at heart. You know this. Please, just let me in to examine him. I might be able to detect problems you cannot."

"Vincent?" Cid's voice came to him. He could not reply without another sob breaking through; he simply nodded.

"Alright, doc," Cid let the door swing open. "Come in."

Vincent tugged at the blanket again - fearing the doctor's approach. He stared blankly as a pair of black trousered legs came into his view. Knees bent and the trousers were followed by an open white overcoat, then a green blouse and finally a petit, pale face framed by short, jet black hair. Dark rimmed yet bright blue eyes looked at him through small round glasses.

"Well," said the frowning face. "I see why the sensors were not picking up your vital signs; you're out of their range. Would someone like to tell me how that happened?" She turned and stared accusingly at Cid.

"Nothin' to do with me," Vincent heard Cid say from behind him.

"Mr. Valentine?" the doctor asked again, returning a softer gaze to Vincent.

Vincent screwed his eyes shut.

"Yah gonna tell 'er?" Cid asked.

"You..." Vincent managed to mumble. If he tried to speak he would begin screaming again.

Cid sighed and Vincent heard the sharp click of a lighter.

"Vincent's got this... ability. He can transform into powerful creatures."

"Yes," the doctor interrupted. "I know of the phenomenon. It must have been very beneficial in your battles against J-E-N-O-V-A."

"Yeah, well somethin' happened ah ain't ever seen before."

"A new transformation?"

"Yeah."

"We expected this kind of result."

"Well, none of yah told us!" Cid voiced the anger Vincent felt.

"I'm sorry, that was something that should not have been overlooked.

"Mr. Valentine?"

"He ain't gonna answer yah."

"Mr. Valentine," there was no impatience in her voice as there had been when talking to Cid. "Please, I only want to help you."

"Vincent," Cid caught him under his right arm. "She means it. While you were asleep she came in every few hours. The times ah couldn't be here she sat with yah."

Was that true? He opened his eyes and gazed at her tired, pallid face. Was she exhausted because of her shared vigil with Cid?

"Please, Mr. Valentine," she said again. "I want to help you."

He nodded. With Cid's aid he rose to his feet, still clutching the blanket tight around his body. He perched on the edge of the bed and stared at the ground.

After a few moments of playing with the readouts the doctor said; "Well, all these readings are fine. You may as well have not been in surgery for nearly seventy two hours." She stood in front of Vincent, her coat brushing his toes. "I just need to listen for myself. Would you mind?"

Listen? He looked up at her; she held a stethoscope, the ear-pieces in her hands hovering either side of her head. She wanted to listen to his chest? She would see... but if she had been part of the team of people who carried out the surgery she had seen already, she would be prepared for the lattice of scars that covered his flesh.

He looked at Cid who nodded his understanding and turned away. Vincent took a breath and let the blanket fall away.

"What?" the doctor's shocked response caused Vincent to pull the blanket back up.

"No," she said, catching his hands. He saw no disgust or fear in her face, just amazement. "You were in surgery for hours. Major, complicated surgery..."

Was that all?

"I... heal quickly," he said.

The doctor shook her head, almost smiling; "No wonder they had trouble keeping you open."

Vincent shook violently at her words. Thoughts of his body being torn apart flooded his mind. He saw it with his mind's eye, heard his screams. Memories bit at his sanity, pulling at old emotional wounds.

"Open?" he cried, one arm flying from the blanket and sending the doctor to the ground.

"What am I?" he cried. "A toy to be played with? A machine to be tinkered with?"

Cid caught his arm as he raised it again, standing away from the bed.

"Going to do it to me again?"

"Stop it!" the Captain pushed him back against the wall, restraining his free arm as his cover fell away. "Pull yerself together!"

"So they can take me apart again!" Fear strangled his words, making them strained and broken.

"It's over now."

"It'll never be over," he stopped struggling. His body went limp and he tumbled into Cid's arms. "Cid, please, help me. I can't stand it anymore." Vincent shuddered, but he had no tears left to cry.

"Ah told yah - it's over."

"He's right," the doctor had pulled herself up and now stood far from Vincent. "Your genetic structure is stable. You should be in control of it.

"Mr. Valentine, your safety is one of the most important things in this world to me. You and your friends saved our lives, saved this planet. Every life in this world owes its continued existence to you. I will do everything in my power to ensure you suffer no more.

"I am sorry that my ill-spoken words have hurt you."

"Thank you," he whispered, still clutching Cid, his head on the shorter man's shoulder.

"You're free to leave," the doctor told him. "I can see no reason to keep you here any longer. I wish your future to be happier than your past." With those as her final words she left the room.

Moments passed as Vincent listened to his own breathing, feeling his racing heart slow down again.

"Yah gonna let go," Cid finally asked. "We'll look damn strange if anyone comes in here."

Vincent pushed him away and again pulled the blanket about his body. He made no response to Cid's jibe.

"Oh come on! Give me some sort of smile!"

"Cid," Vincent murmured wearily. He pushed passed the Captain and dropped onto the armchair.

"What yah gonna do now?" Cid asked, sitting on the bed.

"What now?" Vincent echoed. The question of his own death entered Vincent's mind once again, but he shook it away. His second chance at life was a sentence, atoning for his sin. "I live," he muttered.

"Ah mean aside from that," Cid lit another cigarette. Vincent watched him - the Captain's hands were trembling.

"Are you afraid of me?"

"Of you?" he shook the match out, flicking it at the pile beside the armchair. "No. Just tired." Cid grinned at Vincent, the latter was not convinced, but it was no good trying to pry anything out of Cid. "So, what yah gonna do?"

"Leave," Vincent sighed. "I don't know."

He looked up at Cid. He had no idea what he would do now, where to go, where to live. He closed his eyes, leaning back in the armchair. Sleep called to him, the deep unending sleep he had experienced in the crypt beneath the ShinRa Mansion. He sighed softly - would his friends allow it?

"Cid?"

"Hmm?"

"Will you take me back to her cave?"

"Why?"

Vincent shook his head again; "Don't ask me that."

"Yer gonna just mope in that hole in the rock again, ain't yah?"

"Yes."

"Valentine!"

"I need time... alone."

"With yer misery?"

"Yes."

"No!"

"If you will not then I will find other passage."

"No!" Cid stood up. "Last time yah were there yah tried to... end it all."

Vincent looked at the Captain again, at his friend.

"All right," he said. "Take me to Kalm."

"What'll yah do there?"

"Live."

"That it?"

"I don't know! I just... I promise, you'll see me again."

Why was it that Cid, of all the people on the Planet, could pull such emotions from him, such promises? Why did the Captain care so much about one lost soul?

Cid smiled; "I'll accept that. Even if it is the word of a Turk."

"Ex," Vincent sighed. He watched Cid walk around the bed and take a pile of black and red cloth from the cabinet beside it. Golden boots and a gauntlet sat on top of the bundle.

"Yuffie fixed 'em up for yah, after they cut yah out of 'em."

The spoilt little princess could sew then.

"What's say yah shower and dress while ah gather the others. Yah do... want to see 'em, right?"

Vincent stood and took the clothes. Did he want to see the people that had put him through another nightmare? They did it to save him... to save the Planet. The lesser of two horrific evils had been forced upon him, but he had to accept that it _was_ the lesser.

"Yes."

"Alright. I'll gather 'em in the entrance hall. We can see 'em before we leave."

So, Cid would take him to Kalm.

"Thank you."

Cid left him. He put the clothes on the bed and stumbled into the bathroom. It was small - a shower cubicle, sink and toilet. Everything was medical white and chrome. Two large soft towels were hung on the back of the door. He closed it and leaned against the smooth wood, letting the blanket fall to the ground.

"What am I going to do?" he spoke aloud, wrapping his arms about his body. "Lucrecia..." he sobbed.

He was sinking, his mind falling into a black quagmire of self pity. He had lost so much, endured suffering no human should go through. Cid expected him to go on this way? In this misery?

How? Why? What point was there to him continuing on - a punishment? Had he not suffered enough!

Chaos whispered in his soul - his pain would never end. Not until its time came, when all life would join the Lifestream.

"No!" Vincent closed his eyes and covered his ears as if that would block its silent voice. "I won't let you do that!"

Chaos fell quiet - it could wait.

Calm, Vincent thought; he had to keep calm, keep control. "I'll find a way," he whispered. "To end this, to stop Chaos."

Yes! He knew what he would do, he could answer Cid's questions. He would search out a way to rid himself of Chaos for good. That was his purpose now, that would be the driving force to keep him moving.

He climbed into the shower, avoiding the sight of his own mangled body. The warm water danced over his skin; he watched it spin down the plug hole, breathing softly in the humid air.

Washed, dressed, his Death Penalty re-holstered, Vincent left the confines of his hospital room in the WRO headquarters. He was impressed that Reeve had managed to organise such an outfit in only a few weeks. The building was not brand new, but it had been refurbished well enough. He met many people as he looked for the entrance - scientists, doctors, military officers, administrators. He was _very _impressed.

He found the large, open entrance hall with guidance from the people he had met. It sat in the centre of a tower, surrounded by staircases and mezzanines. People were waiting for him - Cid was pacing.

No one spoke as he approached them and he did not know where to start. Finally, Cid piped up and broke the chilled silence ; "Still to Kalm then, is it?"

"Yes."

"Kalm?" Yuffie asked. "Why Kalm?"

"It was my father's home," he suddenly realised. Yes, that made it the perfect place to start. He began to walk past them.

"Vincent," Cloud's voice.

He turned to the young man, waiting for his words. Cloud averted his eyes for a moment. Vincent let him find what he wanted to say.

"It wasn't easy," Cloud said, slowly. "Making that decision, holding to it. But..."

"What Cloud is trying to tell you," Nanaki sat at Cloud's feet. "Is that he cannot say sorry for choosing a path that saved your life."

Vincent closed his eyes, clenching his fists to stop his hands from shaking. He did not want this conversation. All he wanted was to forget it had ever happened.

"We heard you," Tifa said. Vincent looked up at her - she had been crying. Had he ever seen her cry before? Perhaps when Aerith had died. "And Cid told us what happened."

Vincent glared at Cid, but the Captain refused to shrink from him; Cid had done what he thought was right and he did not care that it would have been against Vincent's wishes.

"Can you forgive us?" Tifa asked.

"There is nothing to forgive. Cloud is right; you took the only option available."

"Then we're still friends, right?" Yuffie asked, hands clasped behind her back.

He looked at them, each one in turn. Cid knew what the answer would be, he knew Vincent still counted him as a friend. Nanaki, regal in his young years, simply awaited Vincent's judgement - whatever the ex-Turk decided the noble beast would accept it.

Yuffie looked up at him hopefully, fearful of his rejection. Tifa too needed for them to still be friends, for there to still be that bond. Reeve had no delusions. He knew Vincent would never fully trust him. He simply shook his head - he needed no forgiveness for his part in it.

Barret stared back at him. Of all the group, the big dark-skinned man was the hardest for Vincent to fathom. He did not need Vincent's acceptance, whatever he said would make no difference to Barret - he would simply move on.

Finally his eyes came back to rest on Cloud. The boy, the man, had been the one to have the final word, to really make the decision. It was he that the blame truly fell on. Vincent realised that Cloud had orchestrated it that way; he would let no other carry that burden.

"Friends," Vincent said, closing his eyes for a moment. He began walking again, Cid following. "Yes, I would like that."


	7. Chapter 7 Secrets

Tseng and Elena... always getting left for dead. And how does Vincent know so much about the Silver Haired Men?

* * *

><p>Nearly two years passed as Vincent travelled the Planet, searching for the answers to his past, for a way to rid himself of the demons dwelling inside his body, soul, and mind. The people of Cosmo Canyon had directed him towards the Forgotten Capital, the lost city of the Cetra.<p>

He approached the great dead city in silence; nothing stirred. Something was wrong; Chaos tasted blood on the air. How? This was an uninhabited land.

Approaching the giant conch shell, Vincent drew his gun. He leaned against the wall beside the entrance and glanced inside. Horror struck him.

Two people lay on the ground, arms tied behind their backs. A sanguine trail lay across the floor, leading from a blood soaked table to one of the figures. Neither moved, both were bloodied and battered. Vincent stepped inside, looking for others. One person moved suddenly, jerking at the sound of his footsteps.

"I'm not here to hurt you," he said, holstering the Death Penalty. The figure moved slowly, turning to look at him. A woman's face stared up at him from beneath blood soaked blonde hair, blue eyes wide and dark rimmed.

"Help us," she coughed.

"Elena?" The Turk? Could it be?

"Valentine?" she began to cry, sitting up in obvious pain. "Please, please help us, before they come back. He's really hurt. I don't... he's going to die! Please!"

"Ssh," he moved towards her slowly. "What happened? Who is that?" he nodded at the still figure.

"Tseng."

The leader of the Turks? What were they doing here?

He knelt beside Elena, quickly untying the rope around her wrists.

"Tell me what happened."

"Please," she begged, grasping his hand once hers were free. "Before they come back. I'll tell you when we get away. Please, even you can't defeat them."

He nodded; if Elena was in no state to talk then things were dire indeed. Whoever had done this... they were monsters.

"Can you walk?" he asked her, crouching behind Tseng. His body was a mess, Vincent was not sure if he was breathing, but as he pulled away at the ropes, Tseng gave a pained moan.

"Yes but... Tseng?" her voice cracked at his name.

Vincent moved the man gently, lifting his upper body. Eyes fluttered open, one half buried beneath swollen flesh.

"Valentine?" he croaked.

"I'm going to get you away from here. With my help, can you walk?"

"One of... my legs," his eye fell to his left leg, the knee bending at a grotesque angle.

Vincent grimaced then placed his hands on Tseng's leg, one either side of the broken joint.

"This will hurt," Vincent said, studying the disjointed limb.

"No more than... it did the first time."

"Elena, hold him."

The young Turk did as asked, kneeling behind her leader. She wrapped her arms around his chest, Tseng gripped her wrists. Vincent gritted his teeth and twisted Tseng's lower leg with a sudden and violent jolt. Muscle and sinew gave a wet screech, Tseng screamed, fingers digging into Elena's thin wrists.

Vincent waited as the leader of the Turks slowly brought his wits back about him.

"Now," Elena said, glancing at the doorway. "We have to go, now."

Vincent helped them both stand. Tseng leant against him, Vincent's arm around his waist. Slowly, painfully, they left the huge shell and headed into the forest.

Vincent lead them away from the path. If they stayed on the travelled roads they would be easily found. An hour passed, then two, then three. Finally, Vincent decided they had travelled far enough. The going had been slow, with numerous stops. They had not progressed far, but far enough - he doubted Tseng would last very much longer without aid.

Vincent found a patch of soft, dry earth beneath a towering tree and stopped between its great gnarled roots. He set Tseng down there, Elena fell beside him. Vincent sat on one of the protruding roots.

"Will you tell me what happened?" he asked.

"He needs aid," Elena pleaded, but Tseng shook his head.

"Tell him. Nothing can be done now. If you tell him he may be able to get word back."

"You'll die!"

"And what can be done? The Icicle Inn is too far. The archaeologists have finished their dig. There is nothing."

Distraught and dejected, Elena closed her eyes and leaned back against the tree trunk. Vincent waited.

"Three days ago," she began. "We were sent to retrieve whatever was left of Sephiroth and J-E-N-O-V-A. Think what you will of us for it. We didn't ask why, we don't know what was planned for the remains.

"What we found," she scrunched her face up. "Was J-E-N-O-V-A's head. But of Sephiroth... there were three men, young men with silver hair. They had guns and swords and... they were so fast! Reno got away in the helicopter but... we were already lost to them."

Silver hair? "The men," he asked. "Clones?"

Elena shook her head.

"Brothers, they were... they said they wanted J-E-N-O-V-A's head. They said they needed it... for the Reunion."

Reunion! Sephiroth's return, when he would be reborn using the Calamity's power. Then they were Sephiroth Clones, of a sort.

"They are Sephiroth, they will become him," she continued, confirming his suspicions. "Like the Sephiroth you fought two years ago. Made of J-E-N-O-V-A, taking on, mimicking a guise."

"Her Memetic Legacy," Tseng added. Elena looked at him, shocked. So, he knew more than she. "You were not informed," he gave a rough chuckle. "Perhaps I was not fully informed either. "You were not told because the President feared you talking, I wonder if he knew what we would be finding."

Elena clutched her knees to her chest, trying to hide her sobs.

"Rufus is alive?" Vincent asked.

"He survived the destruction of the ShinRa tower. Hojo's experiments were not confined to outsiders like yourself. The first president's son was also a test subject. Even now J-E-N-O-V-A resides within his body, twisting it, killing it.

"Vincent, you have to help us stop them. J-E-N-O-V-A lives within the flesh of people across the Planet. It is drawing them to their deaths so that Sephiroth might be reborn."

"The Geo-Stigma?"

Tseng nodded slowly; "That is everything we know. You have to get word back; their targets are Rufus and now Cloud. They think your friend is their brother, they want his help or his death."

As if to give weight to Tseng's quiet words gun fire bounded through the forest in rapid, angry bursts. Elena squealed, covering her ears. Tseng did not move. This had to be them; the Silver Haired Men. What were they firing at though?

Vincent stood up, unholstering his Death Penalty.

"What are you doing?" Elena cried. "Don't leave us!"

"Stay still, stay quiet. I will not fight them if I cannot win. I will come back."

He took off at a run, following the sounds of the first cracks of gunfire, his sharpshooter ears able to pick out the true sounds from the echoes. He saw, in the near distance, trees falling, three silver flashes and a familiar face.

Cloud Strife, another of ShinRa's ex-employees, was battling the Silver Haired Men, and losing. Vincent flew into the trees, his body unravelling into a swirling crimson mass. Elena was right - he could not fight these men, but he could get Cloud away from them.


	8. Chapter 8 Reunited

I dread to think how many times this has been done before... but I couldn't help myself.

* * *

><p>Vincent stood on the bridge of the Sierra, watching the waves dash by beneath her hull. It had been too long since he had simply watched the world pass by, dreaming silently of a future that was not, a past that should have been.<p>

"Stop ruminatin'," a rough voice called from behind him. Captain Cid Highwind stood in the doorway grinning. "It's bad for yah health."

"My health is fine," Vincent replied, turning to face him. It was better than fine; six months ago he had rid his body of Chaos. Its curse had been lifted from his soul.

"Come on, yah can help me shift this crap."

Vincent sighed and followed the Captain off the bridge. The 'crap' Cid spoke of was supplies for the survivors of Midgar; people who had fled the city during or just after the war with Sephiroth had been taken in all over the Planet. Now, a year after the World Regenesis Organisation battled Omega WEAPON, those survivors were thriving in the new city, built on the outskirts of Midgar.

The true founder of the WRO was unknown to the masses, but anyone with a little knowledge of its affairs would quickly come to the conclusion that it was Rufus Shinra, ex-president of the ShinRa Electric Power Company. He had survived the destruction of the ShinRa Tower, the Turks had not disbanded, the only person on the Planet with the capital to begin a venture like the WRO was Rufus Shinra.

With his money people were rebuilding their lives in Edge, a town on the outskirts of a city that had been cleansed by Chaos. Its one-time host, Vincent Valentine, was now helping with the long process of building a new life for the people of a twice cursed city. He strode after Cid who was hefting a large open box, cigarette perched on his lower lip.

The Captain called himself a freelance pilot, but he was virtually employed by the WRO. He claimed the Sierra as his own, but it was WRO money that kept her in the sky. He had been enlisted to help move construction materials, people and personal belongings to Edge, and had dragged Vincent along for the ride.

"I thought you had crew to take care of this," Vincent drawled - he had not come along to do manual labour, his intention had been to protect the building crew from any monsters that might have found their way into the construction grounds from the wastes.

"Yeah," Cid replied. "But standin' around idle fer hours ain't good fer yer health either."

"And who said I wanted you to safeguard my health?"

"Call it a favour," Cid grinned back at him.

Vincent realised an opportunity to rile his friend. Rather than stroll behind Cid he strode in front of him. With his hands busy holding the large box, Cid could not defend himself. Vincent stopped in front of Cid, halting the man in the middle of the corridor.

"Perhaps I should repay the favour," Vincent said and plucked the smoking white stick from the Captain's mouth. "You know, one day, these things will kill you."

Cid spluttered at him; incredulous. Vincent could barely hold back his smile, he stepped back with a swift bow to allow the Captain to proceed. Cid, lost for words, could only growl as he passed by and entered the cargo bay.

For hours the two men worked to sort the mass of boxes that appeared to have just been dumped at random in the cargo hold. All the while Cid complained about the state his crew had left it in. Vincent knew he was only blowing off steam; if he were truly angry he would have let his crew know. It seemed at the same time he was trying to keep them both occupied; Vincent had been distant of late, he realised, more so than usual. Things had looked bright after the battle with Omega WEAPON, but for a while now something had been playing on his mind.

"So, what is it?" Cid finally asked as they headed to the mess.

"Hmmm?"

"You. You've been workin' somethin' round in that shabby head of yers fer days."

Vincent only looked at him, wanting more to go on. Cid huffed - getting Vincent to talk was like drawing Mako from the sky.

"Ah know this may sound odd, but yah've been more quiet 'an usual."

"Yes," Vincent replied.

"And?"

"And I don't know," Vincent sighed softly; he really did not. Something simply felt wrong, as though he had something to do and could not quite remember what it was.

"Yah jus' missin' sommat to mope about," Cid grinned at the scowl he received. "No, ah'm right. Yah've sorted out Hojo, saved the world, put Chaos to rest. Yah've run out of things to brood over."

Vincent shook his head. They entered the mess hall, it was almost empty. The few solitary crew members waved their informal, off-duty hellos to the Captain and Vincent. He sat down while Cid got food. The ex-Turk had no need of food, really. He ate at times, but it was not a necessity to his living.

Was Cid right? Was he simply looking for something to be miserable about, so used was he to it? What need had he to search? His sins of the past were unforgivable. Yet Lucrecia had cleared him of those crimes; they were both at fault. He still felt that his was the greater sin though; he had been her bodyguard. Honour, duty and even his payroll demanded he protect her.

He had failed.

"Ruminatin' again?" Cid cut into his thoughts, thrusting a cup of tea into his hands. "If yah ain't gonna eat with me yah could at least drink somethin'." Cid sat down and began digging into a large pile of potatoes. He continued talking, mouth full; "One day, yah gonna find yerself a pretty girl and move on from yer lost love."

"Her name was Lucrecia."

"And she's dead, Vincent."

Vincent glared at him, seething at the very idea that Lucrecia could be deceased. Cid held up his hands in placation.

"Ah'm just..." Vincent stood up, interrupting him.

"Take me to her cave."

"What?"

"Take me!"

That was what had been plaguing his thoughts; Lucrecia was not dead. No one, not ever, had been able to say she had passed away. There was no body, only an image cast in the Mako Crystals. An image? It seemed solid, whole; was it her body? Was she truly dead?

"Are you insane?" Cid remained in his seat. "Sit yer ass down and drink yer damn tea."

"Take me there, Cid."

"Why the hell would I do that?"

"Because she's not dead!" Vincent had to restrain himself from slamming his palms on the table.

"Now yer scarin' me, Valentine, and yer scrain' mah crew."

Vincent glanced around the silent room; all eyes were turned their way.

"Sit down and we'll talk about this, quiet like."

Vincent acquiesced, taking his seat again.

"Now think about what yer sayin'; how can she be alive?"

"J-E-N-O-V-A," Vincent replied, his eyes burning into Cid's; he knew he was right. "Hojo did not age, not a day, after his experiments with J-E-N-O-V-A, after he injected himself. Lucrecia... he did the same to her.

"She... please Cid; I have to know for sure. If she's alive, if I can wake her."

He was trembling, his heart thumping, stomach twisting. If she was alive, if he could see her again; could he redeem himself? What did it matter? He would be able to see her again, make her smile again, hear her laugh; but Cid was shaking his head.

"Ah can't do that... just let me finish! Ah can't do that till we've dropped the supplies and passengers off in Edge. Can yah wait that long?"

"Yes, thank you."

Time passed like the shifting of continents. Vincent's mind ran wild with the possibilities of Lucrecia's awakening. At times he thought it a terrible idea - what if she rejected him? What if the burdens of her past were too much for her to bare? But no, whatever her feelings, he had to try, show her a new world - one without Hojo or Sephiroth.

He did not want to leave the ship when it landed, but he had come to protect the people. He left alone, searching through the construction sites. He roamed into the nearby ruins, removing any beasts that he discovered with fluid efficiency. That would be all though. He would not stay any longer than he had to.

He returned to the ship, marching straight to the bridge; Cid was not there.

"Where is the Captain?" he demanded of the young man stood at the helm.

"Sir? He's directing the unloading. Should I call him for you?"

Vincent almost said 'yes,' but Cid would only shout at him, tell him to be patient. The Captain would be ready when he was ready, and not before. He trusted Cid enough to know he was desperate to set off, to not keep him waiting longer than needs be. He would just have to bide his time.

Vincent soon found himself pacing, angry at the hours it seemed to be taking Cid.

"Sir, maybe you should get some rest or... something."

The young man blanched as Vincent turned to him, a grim stare conveying enough to silence the room until Cid arrived. When the Captain finally entered the bridge, Vincent almost leapt at him.

"Are we leaving?"

Cid grinned; "Ah've never seen yah so agitated."

Vincent glared, waiting for an answer.

"Yes, we'll take yah to the cave. Even got it cleared by Reeve."

The crew on the bridge collectively sighed. The presence of a tightly wound Vincent Valentine had run fear through them all. Cid relieved the young man at the helm. He skirted around Vincent, giving him a wide berth.

"Why don't yah go get some sleep," Cid said. Unperturbed by Vincent's glare, he called on another crewman to relieve him. "You really know how to ruin an atmosphere. Lets 'av you up on deck."

"On deck?" Vincent followed behind him regardless.

"Yeah, no one up there for yah to bother."

"Sorry, I just..."

"Ah understand," Cid clapped him on the back, a grin framing his cigarette.

The air and clouds rushed by on the small deck of the Sierra. The gusts caught Vincent's cloak and hair, tugging them behind him.

"Yah really think she might be alive?" Cid asked, leaning over the railing to watch the world pass by below.

"Maybe," Vincent joined him. "I can only hope."

"So, what's the plan? How yah gonna go about waking her up?"

Vincent closed his eyes; "I don't know."

"See what happens when yah get there, eh?"

Vincent nodded solemnly. His actions were completely irrational, yet something pulled him to the cave. Something called to him, urged him to see Lucrecia again. He watched as the mountain range that held Lucrecia's Cave drew nearer. Agitated, frightened, he could only stare at the magnificent purple stone that rose out of the land like a giant maw.

The Sierra coasted up and over the peaks with ease. She began to descend slowly, too slowly. Vincent could not wait as long as it was going to take them to land; he leapt up onto the railing, ready to leap to the mountains below.

Cid caught his cloak; "Hey! What the hell yah doin' now?"

"This is taking too long," he replied and threw himself towards the scree covered slopes.

"You idiot!" Cid's voice called after him.

He was in no danger though, his intentions were not to die. He flipped his body over in the air, landing on the angled ground with sure footing. He slid down the scree, leaping now and then when he found secure rocks till he reached the ground, the Sierra still soaring above him.

Vincent took one quick glance at the grand ship before tearing into the cavern. It had not changed; Lucrecia still stood, peaceful and serene, in the Mako crystals, her hands pressed together as though in prayer to the Planet.

He drew close to the shimmering crystals, one hand outstretched to touch the cold stones.

"Lucrecia," he whispered. "Tell me what I need to do."

A chill wind blew through the cave, lifting his cloak and throwing dust at the crystals. They vibrated with the pummelling of thousands of tiny motes, flashes of rainbows dancing over their surface and through every facet and flaw. Lucrecia's image, no Lucrecia's body, remained the same.

Closer still, he rested his head on the crystals. He could feel the pulse in his temples and the air felt thick in his lungs. What should he do? Was she to be encased in there forever? Could he shatter the crystals without hurting her?

"Please," he prayed. "Let this work, let me see her smile again."

Vincent stepped away from the crystals, pace after pace till he stood five or six metres away. With a trembling hand he raised the Death Penalty and took aim at the tip of the crystal. He gripped his wrist with the gauntlet, trying to steady his hand; he had to make the shot perfect.

Count, breathe, count, breathe. Fire!

The Mako crystals erupted with a scream that seemed to hurl itself up from the depths of the Planet. A thousand minute rainbows flew through the air, reflecting tiny images of a woman falling, hands clutched in prayer.

Vincent ran forward, catching Lucrecia's body as she tumbled through the crystal rain. He held her against him, clutching her so tight he could have broken her small frame. She did not move, did not breathe, her body was rigid and cold.

"Please," he cried. "Wake up, breathe. Breathe!"

He raised her chin with a gentle hand, the other wrapped around her waist. Gloved fingers caressed her pale cheeks, ran across her lips. Her eyes fluttered open, her mouth forming a small 'o' as she took a deep breath. For a fraction of a second he saw her deep brown eyes before they closed again. She was unconscious, but breathing easily; he had done it. He had her back.

"Vincent?" Cid's voice echoed through the cavern.

The ex-Turk lifted Lucrecia in his arms, her body seemed frail, too light. Turning he saw the Captain standing in the entrance, his face dropped when he saw Lucrecia.

"Is she..."

"She's breathing, but unconscious. Cid, call your people, get her to the infirmary."

"Way ahead of yah," Cid grinned as three medics ran into the cave, two of them carrying a stretcher, the third with a medical kit. Reluctantly, Vincent gave up his beloved to them. "Don't worry," Cid caught his arm, holding him back as the medics ran out of the cave. "She's in good... hey, hey."

Vincent had turned away from him and was leaning, arms outstretched, against a wall. His whole body was shaking. He felt as though he was going to be sick, his head was light and his heart would not stop bursting in his ears.

"Maybe yah should get some rest," Cid said, standing beside him now. "When was the last time yah kipped?"

"I don't... I don't know." Try as he might, Vincent could not suppress a smile. He felt like death was crawling across his body as shock and fatigue finally took hold, but his mind was elated. "I've got her back, Cid. She's alive."

"Yah cry at me and ah'm gonna have to hit yah," Cid grumped.

"Sorry," Vincent pushed himself away from the wall, closed his eyes as a wave of nausea passed then started to walk. He was unsteady but stable enough to move on his own. "Think I'll... take that offer of... rest."


	9. Chapter 9 Restoration

Copyright: Characters not mine... blah, blah... you know the drill.

C&C me?

Ah, the angst!

Vincent lay on the bed in the quarters Cid had spared for him. He had slept, surprisingly, without turmoil. He had been told that Lucrecia was stable but still unconscious. Would she remain forever so? Had the incarceration in the crystals merely been an accident of time after she had simply slipped into a coma inside the cavern?

His thoughts were cut short. A scream vibrated through the entire ship, a terrified howl that bore deep into his heart. Before he could even collect his thoughts his feet were pounding on the metal floors of the Sierra's corridors as he ran towards the infirmary.

Cid met him on the way; "Is that...?"

"Who else?" Vincent called over the continuing screams.

Vincent flew into the infirmary. The doctors and nurses were in a flutter, one woman standing with her hands over her ears to block out the hoarse screams. Two orderlies were leaning over a bed, wrestling with its inhabitant. Vincent wrenched them out of the way and, without thinking, wrapped his arms around Lucrecia.

"Shh," he cooed, holding her tight against his own body. "Stop this, it's okay, Lucrecia."

Her screams broke into sobs, she gripped his cloak as she hugged him.

"Vincent, oh Vincent," she raised weary eyes to his face, her hair hanging loose. "What has happened? I had a terrible nightmare, I was..."

Her eyes drifted over his as her fingers rose to touch his long dark hair. His eyes had once been brown but were now a fiery crimson. His hair had once been short but now flowed down his back and over his shoulders.

Her gentle features crumpled as her nightmare became real. She pushed him away from her and began to scream again. He fought her, pulling her back into his arms against her will.

"No! No, what have you done! No! Take me back," she began to sob, curling up against him. "Please, take me back."

"I'm sorry."

Why had he done this, brought this upon her? How could he not have known this would happen? Of course she had allowed herself to fall into a coma, a deep unending sleep encased in the Mako. How could she live with the memories, with the guilt? But just as Chaos had not allowed him to die, J-E-N-O-V-A would not allow Lucrecia to die.

"I'm sorry," he repeated. "I... I need you."

"How could you?" her muffled voice shook as she held back her sobs. "After what I did, what I let happen to you?"

"I... it doesn't matter," he chided himself; even now he could not tell her he loved her. If she replied, if she told him she did not love him back, if she pushed him away, it would break what was left of him.

"Please, take me back."

"No," he whispered, as though it would make it easier for her to hear. "I can't do that."

"Chaos... I can't look on Chaos inside you again."

A chance!

"Chaos is gone, returned back to the Planet which birthed it."

"Gone?" she looked up at him with bloodshot eyes. Her fingers rose to his temples, thumbs tracing the high lines of his cheeks as she stared into his eyes. "Gone," she repeated, a smile twitching on her lips.

"Yes," he whispered, her fingers sending shivers through his body. "All of it, gone; Chaos, Hojo and his experiments, all gone. The world is at peace now, you don't need to hide."

She frowned and then, slowly, a smile spread and her eyes lit up. Vincent's heart skipped and he could not help but smile back as her own words washed over him.

"We can be together now?"

"Yes," he replied, tugging her back into his arms. He would never let her go again.

"Alright, alright," Cid clapped behind him. "You kids better break it up or you'll get me all tear-y."

"Where are we?" Lucrecia whispered, pressing herself against his upper body.

"On an airship, above the mountains."

"The Sierra," she whispered. "I dreamt... I thought they were dreams, of the world, of things happening, of you. Big things, small things, they came to me through the Lifestream that made the Mako crystals. I saw Omega... and... Sephiroth."

"It's all over," he repeated.

"Yes, you're right."

Lucrecia pushed herself away from him. She smiled softly as she rubbed away her tears and took a deep breath, pushing back her shoulders. Glancing around the room at the shocked medics she said; "Thank you. I'm sorry if I frightened you all."

There were murmured replies but Cid cut in.

"Yeah, yeah," he said, approaching the bed, not caring to put out his cigarette. "So, this the lady Vincent has been mopin' over?"

Lucrecia laughed; a delight to Vincent's ears.

"You must be Cid Highwind," she said. "I thank you too, for taking care of Vincent for me."

The ex-Turk felt the blood rise in his face as Cid laughed.

"Well," said the Captain. "Yah hungry?" He looked at the medical staff and asked them; "She's good to go, right?" He did not wait for an answer though. "Ah'll have the ship's cook rustle somethin' special up."

"No," she replied, shaking her head. "Thank you, but I'm not hungry. I just... can we have some time together, please?"

Cid nodded and ordered everyone out of the infirmary. "Vincent," he said as he was leaving. "Where we goin'?"

Home, Vincent thought, his dwellings were meagre but they would be brightened a hundred fold by Lucrecia's presence. "To Kalm."

Alone now, in the thrumming quiet of the ships infirmary, she smiled up at him and raised her arms; "Help me up?"

He lifted her off the bed and set her down on the floor with ease. She stood straight and steady on her bare feet. The shock and fear had passed, she was once again the head-strong, gentle woman he had met thirty years ago. She glanced around the room, hands running down the surgical gown she had been dressed in.

"Do you know where my clothes are?"

He could make a guess. He rifled through a few nearby cupboards until he found the right one. Sure enough, there were her clothes along with her shoes and the ribbons from her hair. He handed them to Lucrecia and turned his back to her.

He heard her chuckle softly as she dressed.

"You're so sweet," she said, tugging his shoulder. He turned to face her and was dragged back to the day they had met. He had been young and naive, she gentle and innocent. He had dreamed of marrying her from that very moment, but how to ask her? She was a scientist; brilliant in her field, if radical, well known amongst other researchers. What could she have wanted with a lowly bodyguard?

At the time he had not known she had worked with his father. The two men had not been very close, he had not taken the path Grimoire had desired for him and they had fallen out. In his final breath Grimoire had asked Lucrecia to tell his son that he was sorry.

"You look so serious," Lucrecia said, her hands clasped behind her back. "You were always thinking about things. And now," she chuckled. "Your hair, it makes you look so much older, wiser."

She laughed again as he became flustered. He could never find the right words when Lucrecia was making fun of him, playing with him.

"I guess some things never change," she sighed softly and looked at the ground. "Does all this... does it mean you forgive me?"

"Forgive you?"

"For betraying you."

"You didn't..."

Her words spilt out in a sudden torrent; "I killed your father with my reckless experiments. I shunned your clumsy advances. I leapt into Hojo's arms to hurt you when you couldn't tell me not to and because I could not let go of your father's death. And then," she swatted at a small tear that clung to her soft skin. "I... I let..."

"Don't talk of those things," he said, eyes darting from hers as she spoke of their past mistakes.

"Do you love me?"

He looked up; her eyes burnt with a deep intensity. Her eyebrows knit slightly and her lips were pouched. She wanted an answer, an answer he could not give so easily.

"Please, tell me."

He felt warmth on his face again, his fingers and toes tingled and his stomach was turning loops as he opened his mouth; "Yes."

"Still?"

"What more can I say?" was she going to drag a confession of his love for her out of him? Did she want to hear the words? "I love you Lucrecia, I always have done."

Shaking, his trembling hands covering his face, the gauntlet cold against his flushed cheeks; he sat down on the bed.

"I know," she said, standing in front of him.

She pulled his hands from his face and leaned close to him. His eyes were closed as his mind raced over her words again and again. Suddenly he felt her lips against his, warm and soft. He shot backwards, staring up at her.

"What are you doing?" he spluttered.

"I longed to hear those words."

He looked away from her as she drew close again. He wanted to ask her if she felt the same, if she could give him the reassurance he needed. The words stuck in his throat, dry and scratching. If she did not give an answer he still had the hope that she loved him in return.

"I did terrible things, because you couldn't say those words."

"No."

"Yes!" she caught his hands in hers, the heavy gauntlet dwarfing her small fingers. "And now I have the chance to undo them"

"Chaos is gone," he muttered.

"Stop fighting this Vincent. You said 'don't talk of these things' but they still play on your mind, on my mind."

Vincent stared down at his gauntlet, flexing his fingers. Lucrecia took a grip of his hands and pulled herself up onto his lap.

"Wh-what are you doing?"

"Ssh," she smiled, kissing his lips again. "Lets try, okay? Try to forget it all."

"Forget?" his voice trembled; he had never been so close to her, not in this way.

"Start over," she smiled as his eyes finally returned to her. "See if we can get it right this time."

Try to start over? Go back to the beginning and win her love, whether he had it now or not. Yes, a second chance. Take her kisses, her caresses, hold her, kiss her, love her and maybe she would love him back. As he relaxed to her touch she let his hand go, unbuckling his cloak.

"Stop," he gripped her wrists softly, fear filling his heart; she could not see him, could not look on his disfigured body and he did not want to be reminded of it.

"I want to see you," her lips touched his again, hands fighting against his.

"No."

"Please, I want... to know. It's okay, I'm not afraid."

He was terrified, but her tender touch and pleading eyes were striving against him. He let her continue, fingers still around her wrists as she worked at the buckles, her kisses never fading.

She let the cloak fall from his shoulders then freed her hands from his. Pulling away from him, she took his gloved right hand, sliding the material from his upper arm. Vincent watched the glove flutter to the ground, eyes purposely avoiding the scar that ran from his elbow to his wrist on the inside of his arm. He heard her stifled gasp, felt her fingers running around his arm. He looked at his hand, the thick red tissue that circled his wrist. Many scars sat one upon the other from months of straining against the bonds Hojo had put him in.

"Please," he begged her. "Don't do this."

Lucrecia shook her head, hands moving to the gauntlet. "It'll be okay, Vincent. You can't hide from your own past forever. We both need to face it."

Was that what she was doing? Forcing them both to face the torment he been through?

She kissed him again, trying to keep his mind from the emotional pain she was inflicting upon him until the right moment. The gauntlet slid from his arm without him fighting it; he was simply lost in her gentle touch. If he closed his eyes, if he did not look, he could pretend his body was his own, pretend Hojo's blades had never touched him.

"Stop it," she whispered, her lips moving against his. "Don't run from it anymore."

"I'm not ready," yet he was not fighting her. He let her do as she wanted. Her fingers played in his hair, tugging at the crimson bandana as her lips covered his face in long, lingering kisses. "Please, stop," his hair fell lose, she brushed it aside, her hands coming to rest on his neck, tilting his head upwards.

"Open your eyes, Vincent."

Crimson eyes fluttered open, resting on an angel's face. Lucrecia smiled as her eyes fell again to his left arm. She tugged at the black glove but he caught her hand.

"I can only beg you," he whispered, looking down at his arm.

"I know," she pulled at the glove as he watched.

Lucrecia could not hold back her cry of horror at the chilling evidence of Hojo's gruesome experiments that had been kept hidden beneath the dark material. Below the elbow, darkened scar tissue merged with creamy white skin. The inside of Vincent's arm was a mass of healed puncture wounds, the scars swelled in small bumps. Lines of raised skin indicating long buried material.

Gingerly, Lucrecia ran her fingers across his arm. "Do they hurt?" she asked.

Vincent shook his head; "No; they are only scars."

"What... what did he do to you?"

Vincent had been sleeping. A sweet dream of a pain free existence lingered in his thoughts before the agony struck his conscious mind.

"Please," he begged reflexively, throat dry. "Let me go."

He struggled in the bonds that held him to the laboratory table, blood running from the damaged flesh of his wrists. His attempts were feeble, his body weak. How long had it been now; months?

Light flashed against his closed eyes. The whir of the voice recorder coming to life sounded. Present collided with past as Hojo played back the last seconds of his previous session, chuckling as Vincent writhed; his own screams coming from the speakers. Hojo stopped the playback and began recording again.

"The subject is dying," Hojo's high pitched voice. "G-substance can only do so much to combat the decline of its cellular structure."

Dying? No, he could not die on this table, under Hojo's knives. He had to escape...

"I will endeavour to keep it alive. However, my efforts will be futile if it is not strong enough for the next phase."

Another sharp pain cut through Vincent's arm as more vibrant, noxious liquids were forced into his body. Vincent screamed as cold steel punctured his burning flesh.

"When I found you..." Lucrecia shook her head, collecting her thoughts. "Hojo was always obsessed with aesthetics, with beauty. He had clothed you, before setting you to rest in the crypt. I had no idea of the damage beneath..." Unable to tear her eyes from his arm she continued; "I read his reports, but... they were dry, sterile. I couldn't imagine..."

She raised her hands to his collar, unbuckling the straps with a feverish rapidity; she had to see, had to know exactly what her actions had caused.

"No!" he cried, clutching her hands with force. "Please, no more."

"Stop running," she said, resisting him. "Chaos has gone, but you're still in its dark grip, Hojo is still in your nightmares. I know; he's still in mine. You have to face this, Vincent. Stop hiding and accept it. Otherwise we can never move beyond it."

There was no fight left - he gave in to her elegant words; she was right. He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing, trying to calm his body and mind as Lucrecia exposed them both. Her hands worked quickly and lightly, tugging the shirt from his body.

She made no sound.

Vincent opened his eyes to find Lucrecia staring at his chest. A droplet of blood formed on her lower lip as she bit it. Tears ran down her cheeks.

"Lucrecia?" he coughed. When she did not respond he pushed her off his lap and rose, turning away from her.

"Vincent..." her voice wavered. "I'm so sorry..."

"Don't! Don't say it anymore." He wrapped his arms around his body; it was all he could manage, his limbs refusing to obey him. He could not stand to hear her apologise anymore. She had not been at fault, and she had suffered far greater torment than he ever could; losing her son to Hojo's wicked experiments.

"I know," her fingers touched his arms, her forehead resting on his back. "I know, neither of us can accept the responsibility of the other," her arms wrapped around him, her body against his. "These scars... they represent suffering we both inflicted on you. If I had only been able to let go of your father's death. If you had only been able to open up to me fully... if only, if only. We can't go on this way. YOU can't go on this way."

Her lips touched his back, wet with her tears. She circled around to face him, fingers tugging at his arms. His eyes were closed, head down. He was terrified of what she was going to do, the doors to his past she was opening.

As he let his arms fall from his chest Lucrecia released them, placing her hands on his cold body. A large white scar ran down the centre of his ribs, burrowing past his navel and beneath his belt. She traced the wicked line with her fingers lightly.

Vincent jerked, gasping as the pain of his bones cracking beneath Hojo's instruments burst into his mind. She did not stop, instead she put her hand behind him, holding it against his lower back so he could not pull away.

"In the reports," she said softly. "Hojo wrote that... he kept you conscious during most of his work. That must have been... I can't bring myself to imagine it. Feeling those blades, those hands..." she shuddered; her own memories surfacing?

Holding him firmly she touched another scar. A wide jagged blemish that stretched over his heart. Vincent tensed, the muscle pounding so fiercely Lucrecia could feel it.

"It's not yours, is it?" she whispered, following the outline of the darkened tissue with her finger tips.

Vincent's only movement was to clench his fists, fighting the memories that she was dragging up from the depths of their past.

"He took it, gave you another. The heart that beats in your chest, that keeps the blood flowing in your body, is not your heart."

"Stop this!" he cried, pulling away from her again. How could she do this to him? How could these words help them?

"No," she caught his left arm, pulling him to her again. There was fear in her expression, but he could not fathom what she was afraid of. He would never hurt her, no matter what she did to him now; he could not give her more pain.

Her tender touch once again came to rest on his chest. Her fingers ran down his side and onto a scar that lay bellow his ribs. Vincent lurched from her but she held him tight.

"This," she whispered, her thumb running up and down the indented tissue slowly.

"Please, stop this. What are you trying to do?"

Lucrecia put her arms around him. She rested her head on his chest, listening to his heart race. "Why are you so afraid?" she asked. "Why didn't you want me to see?"

"Because it hurts," he answered honestly; it was a question she already knew the answer to. "I just want to forget that nightmare."

"But you cannot, how could you? Your body reminds you, everyday, of the torment Hojo put you through."

She kissed the scar over his heart, holding him against her as he tried to escape her embrace, her own body strengthened by J-E-N-O-V-A.

He wanted her kisses, her touch, but the suffering of his past, embedded in every scar, was released by her soft lips. Memories of agony ripped through his mind, not dulled by the passage of time. The fear of those months returned as if he had never been released. Still she continued, her tenderness forging a path through his pain.

"Stop. Stop this. Please, stop!"

Memories flooded his thoughts, fresh and new. Hojo's cold steel and burning chemicals, cutting his flesh and sending fire through his veins.

"Please," he begged again, unable to push her away. His eyes were closed, tears forming on his lashes. Breathing sharply he slipped to the ground.

"Let it go," she whispered, kneeling in front of him. She released her tight hold on him, turning it into a soft embrace.

The misery and anger he had kept inside welled up in chest, clawing at his throat. He held back a strangled sob, clutching Lucrecia close to him, his head buried in her lap. She brushed her fingers through his long hair, letting it trail across his back.

"How did we let it all go so wrong?" she asked. "Why did I let him hurt you?"

"Stop it!" he cried as her fingers traced a cobweb of tiny scars across one shoulder.

"Let it go," she said, kissing the back of his head.

Finally he could hold it back no longer. He clutched her body as his own shook with violent sobs, not raising his head from her lap. She leaned down, resting her own body against his back. With every racking sob, every tear and cry that emerged from his body a small part of his pain went with it, freeing his soul.

He could not stop, now he had begun it would not end till, exhausted, he began to fall asleep, still bent over Lucrecia's lap. Gradually his cries lessened, body settling until he was still and silent, only tears soaking into Lucrecia's dress.

He was not healed, but it was a beginning.


	10. Chapter 10 Destroyed

Well, this is it; the final chapter. Hope you all enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

* * *

><p>Vincent found himself lying on the floor, entangled in Lucrecia's arms. She seemed to be sleeping, her face gentle and serene. He had seen her this way a hundred times before, frozen in the Mako crystals. This was different though; she breathed softly, a small frown wrinkled her brow. He ran a bare thumb across the soft skin of her forehead and she smiled.<p>

He remembered that innocent smile, when life had still been good to them, when Hojo had not yet instigated his vile plans. That was all gone now; they would both work to put it all behind them and start anew.

Lucrecia murmured softly, turning in his arms as she woke.

"Good morning," she whispered, glancing at the window behind him.

"It is, " he replied. "I never thought I would be able to say that again."

Lucrecia's face crumpled in pain, a cry escaping her lips as she clutched her stomach, body going foetal. What was happening? In seconds his happy new world had fallen apart.

Lucrecia's cries were followed by a sudden, vicious buffeting of the airship, as if a powerful force was trying to get inside.

Silence, stillness.

Vincent lifted Lucrecia up and placed her on the bed. Distraught, confused, he could do nothing as she cried.

"What is it? Lucrecia, please, tell me."

"Him," she muttered. "He's... calling me."

Him? "Sephiroth?"

She nodded.

"But..."

"He's not dead," she answered, looking up at Vincent. "He never was. He's woken and he wants to find me."

There was an odd expression on her face, as if this somehow pleased her.

"I'll stop him," Vincent promised.

"No... Vincent, he's my son."

Vincent kissed her, lifting her slowly. "Not anymore," he said. "He stopped being your son a long time ago. Hojo destroyed your son, took the shell and moulded it into something else."

"Please," she begged, but her words were cut short; Cid's voice came through the tannoy.

"Valentine! Get yer ass down to the bridge, now!"

"Will you come?" he asked Lucrecia.

She nodded, wiping the tears from her eyes. Vincent put his shirt back on, his bandanna and his black gloves. He neglected the gauntlet and cloak; they were images of his past.

Cid did a double take as they entered the bridge. Vincent knew the Captain was wondering about the missing clothing, but Cid made no comment, instead jumping straight to the problem at hand; "You felt the blast?"

"It's Sephiroth."

"How do you..." Cid started before Lucrecia raised her arm. She did not know these people, for all she knew they blamed her for everything that had happened in the last five years.

"He... he's calling to me," she doubled over again, calling Vincent's name. He caught her before she could fall.

"Cid," he shouted. "Move the ship!"

The Captain did as Vincent demanded. A blue shaft of energy skimmed the port side of the Sierra as she strafed to starboard on her jets.

"What the hell is going on?"

"She told you," Vincent replied calmly. "Sephiroth has awoken again. This time Lucrecia is his target."

"Shit!"

"Take me to the crater."

"And what yah gonna do there?" Cid asked.

"Kill him."

"No!" Lucrecia grabbed his arm, eyes pleading. "Don't."

"Yer his real mother, right?" Cid asked, already manoeuvring the great airship northward. Lucrecia nodded. "He don't care 'bout that. Whatever it is he wants from yah, it ain't good. I've had enough o' all this fightin', but that's what he wants - so we gotta give it 'im."

"It's not his fault!"

"That don't change a thing. There's no talkin' to Sephiroth."

"Vincent..."

"I would rather bring this to an end without violence," he said, avoiding her eyes. "If we can do that then we will." He clutched her to him, hugging her. "But we have no choice if Sephiroth wants to fight. Can you understand?"

He felt her nod slowly, sniffing back her tears. Still holding her he spoke to Cid; "We are going to need help."

"Obviously," the Captain snorted. "Cloud, Tifa and Barret are in Edge. Yuffie is with Red in Cosmo Canyon. We can grab 'em on the way."

"Good. Call me when everyone is here. I have to look after Lucrecia. Keep the ship moving, keep it erratic."

Cid nodded, leaving Lucrecia and Vincent to each other, he concentrated on manoeuvring his ship. Vincent led Lucrecia off the bridge, one arm wrapped around her body.

"Where are we going?" she asked, straightening as the pain subsided.

"Cid keeps quarters by for me." He led her in silence to a small set of open plan rooms; shower room, bed, low seating area in a corner. It was dimly lit and basic, just a place for him to sleep whenever Cid insisted Vincent go somewhere with him. One large set of windows looked out into the sky, they were high up in the ship.

Vincent lead Lucrecia to the corner couch, setting her down gently.

"I'm okay now," she said as he sat beside her.

"It will come again though, won't it?"

She nodded; "I have to go to him," Vincent shook his head. "Please, you don't even know why he is calling, why he has come back."

"We know enough."

"You know nothing! Except that he was a danger in the past."

"I'm sorry," Vincent mumbled, jumping at her sudden anger.

Silence as they both stared at the ground.

"Please, try to talk to him first."

"We will, I promise."

"How long?"

"We have to pick up the others first... no more than an hour. The Sierra is fast, faster than any other ship in the world."

He caught her shoulders as she buckled again, biting her lip to hold back her cries. He felt useless, unable to stop her pain. How could a son, even Sephiroth, do this to his mother?

"You still think he means to do something other than cause misery?"

"Vincent!" she gasped. "Don't... say anymore."

He hugged her again, and would not let go until he could stop her suffering. They sat quietly, contemplating each other. When the waves hit her, Lucrecia would stiffen in his arms and he would squeeze her just a little tighter until it melted away. The ship was battered several times, but not as many as it should have been; Cid was an excellent pilot.

"Vincent," Cid's voice came through the tannoy. "Everyone's on board, we're waitin' on yah in the bridge."

Vincent lifted Lucrecia from his lap, in the short hour they had been in his quarters she had become a shadow of herself. Drained and frightened, she looked up at him with bloodshot eyes. He would make Sephiroth pay for making her suffer this way, even if Lucrecia never forgave him.

"Go," she said.

"I can't leave you here, alone."

She smiled wanly; "I'll be okay."

No, she would not. "Come with me, Cid will find someone to look after you."

He gave her no choice in the matter as he lifted her into his arms. She huddled against him, arms coiled around his neck. Everyone was waiting for them on the bridge, he was greeted by stern faces.

"Dr. Crescent?" Reeve stepped forward as Vincent set Lucrecia down on a vacant chair. "Incredible," Reeve took a step back as Vincent glared at him. "I'm sorry, only, for her to be alive, now..." he trailed of as Vincent stepped between him and Lucrecia. "How is she?"

"Exhausted," she managed a smile.

"Ah should think so," Cid called from the wheel. "We've been dodgin' blasts every few minutes!"

"Cid," Clouds calm, quiet voice. "How long till we reach the Northern Crater?"

"Not long, twenty minutes tops."

"We should prepare for what we might find," he turned to the group, instinctively taking up the position of leader. "We've fought him and won before."

"Cloud," Vincent had to air Lucrecia's desires, even if he did not agree with them. "We do not know why Sephiroth is calling out to Lucrecia. She does not want us to harm him if he is not a threat."

"But it's Sephiroth!" Yuffie wailed, stamping a foot.

"And Dr. Crescent is his mother," Tifa, ever dignified and understanding. "She does not want to see him hurt. Right Dr. Crescent?"

Lucrecia nodded, catching her breath as another wave of pain hit her body. She reached out and caught Vincent's arm, pulling him down to her. He wrapped her in his arms, her body shaking.

"It's getting worse," she whispered.

"Because we are getting closer."

"Alright, we're almost on top of the crater," Cid said. "What's our plan?"

"Land," said Reeve, outspoken for once. "I'm not in your league. I'll stay here with the ship and Dr. Crescent, keep the crew ready for a quick take off, should it be required."

Yes, everyone agreed to Reeve's idea. Using Cait Sith he could follow their actions, be ready for whatever they might face down there.

"Since the battle four years ago the crater has subsided considerably. Captain, you should be able to land the ship much deeper inside the mountain this time."

"Ah can try," Cid did not sound convinced. "But it's gonna be an ass with those energy blasts comin' straight at us."

Cid brought the craft down carefully through the winds whipping around inside the crater. She landed gracefully on a precipice deep inside. Walls of solid rock towered above her and fell below her.

"That's as far as we can go," Cid said. "The ledge should be big enough to keep 'er from topplin' off if she gets hit again."

But the blasts had broken their pattern; Lucrecia had felt no waves of pain for some minutes.

Without a word, Cloud led the party off the bridge.

"Be careful," Lucrecia said, hugging Vincent tightly.

"Don't you worry," Cid said, clasping Vincent's shoulder. "We'll take care of 'im.

"Reeve, don't go damagin' mah ship." The Captain pulled Vincent away from Lucrecia and off the bridge.

The descent through the cavern looked treacherous. No path remained after the collapse of the crater years ago, only sheer cliffs. Without fear, Reeves cat-like puppet began the climb down. Yuffie grinned and leapt after it; "This is gonna be fun!"

Tifa could not help but smile at the girl's lack of fear. Soon all were making their way down into the darkness of the Northern Crater, struggling against the buffeting winds and the waning light that barely cut through the perpetual clouds clinging to the crater.

"Anyone else see a light down there?" Barret called above the howling winds.

A blue, washed out light was emanating from the darkness, growing brighter as they drew nearer. The light grew from a small spot to a large orb until all could see it as a lake of light, ebbing and flowing, at the centre of the crater.

"Mako," Vincent whispered.

The greenish lake was edged by a small stretch of rock. In its centre was a raised piece of land and lying on this land the figure of a man. His silver hair seemed shadowy, his flesh translucent. Tendrils of throbbing energy emerged from the lake and crawled across the island, joining with the man's body.

This far inside the crater the winds had vanished. All was bright, lit by the energy that filled the crater's centre. Reaching the ground around the lake the party stood on its edge, staring at the naked male figure.

"Is that... is that Sephiroth?" Yuffie asked, her toes touching the lake as she tried to get a closer look.

"Who else?" Barret replied.

As they watched, his body became solid, whole. To their amazement the energy kept flowing towards him, building itself around him in the form of his clothes, stretching out from one hand to form his legendary Masamune.

"Shit," Barret exclaimed in a hushed, almost reverent tone. "This ain't good."

"You think so?" Cid drawled.

"What do we do?" Tifa asked, looking to Vincent and Cloud for an answer.

"We kill him before he can retaliate," Cloud said, stepping into the lake. Vincent caught his shoulder, held him back.

"No," he said. "I promised Lucrecia. I won't let you hurt him until we know what he wants."

"He wants to kill her," Cloud drew his sword.

"I promised," Vincent repeated. He wanted to destroy Sephiroth, he knew it was the right thing to do, but he could not break that promise.

"It's too late anyway," Cid said, pointing to the island. "He's gettin' up."

A hush fell over the group as Sephiroth rose from the ground. He stood, silent, his Masamune hanging lose in one hand. He gave a thin smile then looked towards the Sierra.

"Thank you," he spoke softly, the voice of a dying angel. "For bringing her to me."

Before anyone could respond he was sailing through the air, propelled by an invisible force.

"Sephiroth!" Cloud yelled.

"Shit!" exclaimed Barret and Cid.

"Oh no! No, no, no!" cried Yuffie and Cait Sith in almost perfect unison.

Tifa and Nanaki gasped, watching the man rise.

Vincent was already in the air, the power of Hojo's experiments allowing him to follow Sephiroth towards the ship. He fired round after round at the fleeing figure. All missed or were blocked with mercury speed.

Vincent glanced back only once to see his friends following behind, some leaping from outcrop to outcrop, others climbing up the cliff face. He turned his eyes back to his target - Sephiroth had gone. In that brief moment the sharp shooter had lost sight of the silver-haired man.

Screams erupted from the Sierra, followed by an explosion from the aft of the ship.

Lucrecia!

Vincent reached the Sierra moments later, landing on the deck. Smoke rose from several ports, whipped about by the winds above the ship.

He ran inside, heading toward the bridge. Sounds of commotion were coming from all corners of the Sierra. Reeve's voice blurted through the tannoy, telling people Cid had ordered them to abandon ship. Good, they had no chance against Sephiroth.

The bridge was filled with panic, Reeve desperately trying to find out where Sephiroth was. Red light filtered through the semi darkness; emergency lightening.

"Where is Lucrecia?" Vincent demanded.

"Vincent!" her voice came from above him, behind the helm. She ran down the ramp and embraced him, refusing to let go while Reeve spoke.

"Vincent, I lost contact with Cait Sith, seconds later chaos broke loose. I cannot get a report from anywhere on the ship."

There would be much death, Vincent thought. "Get off the ship, there is nothing any of you can do against him."

"But..."

"Now!"

Reeve bowed before leaving; "I'm sorry I could not do more..."

Vincent moved Lucrecia to the fore of the bridge, far from the entrance, sitting her on a chair.

"What are you going to do?" she asked, shaking, crying.

"Stop him."

"This is all my fault... those people... he's killing them isn't he?"

"I won't let him hurt you."

"And you can stop me?"

Sephiroth stood in the doorway to the bridge. Blood covered his Masamune, spattered across his chest and face.

"Sephiroth?" Lucrecia lurched to her feet. Her son, a boy, a man she had never laid eyes on.

The silver-haired man smiled. Slowly the Masamune rose, pointing toward Lucrecia. Vincent's heart thundered. The woman he loved coward behind him; Sephiroth meant to destroy her.

Vincent fired his Death Penalty, barely out of its holster. Sephiroth leapt into the air, his sword a flash of silver. Vincent dived, bullets chasing one another. They fought. Sword, gun, fists and feet. Black and silver became a blur. Vincent did not think; he had no need as his instincts took over.

He tumbled against Sephiroth, the sword slashing at his stomach. Blood drenched his face, but it was not his own. He had fired, close range, into Sephiroth's right arm. The silver-haired man gritted his teeth, bringing the sword round to Vincent's chest as he loomed over him, gun buried in Sephiroth's jaw. The blade cut into his skin, drawing a thin trickle of blood.

Sephiroth smiled; stalemate.

"What do you want with Lucrecia?" Vincent demanded, breathless.

"Is it not obvious?" quiet, sure of himself.

Vincent felt a chill from the SOLDIER's deep voice. His eyes fixed firmly on Sephiroth's face he growled; "Humour me."

If he pulled the trigger Sephiroth would surely drive the sword into his chest. If Sephiroth moved, Vincent would fire the Death Penalty.

"Her death."

"She is your mother!"

"No," the smile fell away. "She bore me, gave me life, but she is not my mother. That honour belongs to J-E-N-O-V-A. She gave me strength, power, protection."

So that was it. For a brief second Vincent saw the orphaned child Sephiroth had been. A SOLDIER from his conception, torn from his mother, he had never been loved, never held. Lucrecia had been nothing but an incubator to Hojo's experiment.

"Sephiroth!" Lucrecia cried.

Pain, Vincent saw agony dance on Sephiroth's face, felt his pulse skip as his true mother called his name.

"No," the smile returned. "I shall destroy you, annihilate you."

"We beat you once," Cloud's voice came from across the bridge.

Sephiroth, lost in his own emotional pain, forgot Vincent's gun and turned to see his clone in the doorway.

Vincent fired.

Sephiroth drove his sword forward, giving it a vicious twist - he was dead before it drew fresh blood. The Masamune kept moving. It bit through Vincent's chest, sliced through his heart. He felt fire in his veins then ice in his limbs. People cried his name, hands caught him, the sword was pulled from his body. Someone was screaming.

"Lucrecia," he whispered. He could taste blood.

"No!" he heard. "Don't leave, don't go!"

It was too late, he knew, even his body could not cope with such damage. He felt no pain, yet he knew he should be in agony. His mind was going numb, his life pouring out of his body.

"I'm sorry," he coughed. He was leaving her, after a few such short but beautiful hours together again. It was enough... it had to be enough.

"No!" fingers on his face, in his hair. "Please, don't leave me!"

"Sorry," he mouthed. He felt cold, the only warmth was rising from his chest into his throat. Someone held him. Someone was crying.

Cold.

"Vincent!"

~FIN


End file.
